


S is for Suspense

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-21
Updated: 2003-01-21
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Scully agrees to go away with Mulder for a weekend of R&R before beginning a new case.





	S is for Suspense

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

S is for Suspense

## S is for Suspense

### by Donnilee
    
    
    TITLE:        S is for Suspense
    AUTHOR:       Donnilee
    RATING:       NC-17
    
    SPOILERS:     Little ones for Fire, War of the Caprophages, Fight the Future, The Rain King, Millenium, Triangle, The Sixth Extinction, Home, Chinga, Never Again, Orison, Emily. Small references to various characters and events from episodes.
    

DISCLAIMER: The characters herein belong to Chris Carter, Fox Broadcasting and Ten Thirteen Productions. Nope, not to me. I would have much more fun with them than CC does if I owned them! No pennies are being made here either. 

SUMMARY: Scully agrees to go away with Mulder for a weekend of R&R before beginning a new case. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Requiem never happened. 

**DICTIONARY WORD**

**NEW LEXICON WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY**

sus-pense - (SESPENS) N. the state of anxious expectancy or uncertainty that usually develops while waiting for a decision, outcome, etc. || (in drama, fiction and the movies) an effect of intense and prolonged expectancy || (law) temporary suspension of a right, etc. TO KEEP (or hold) in suspense - to keep in a state of uncertainty or indecision [O.F. suspens, suspense, delay] 

* * *

* * *

**PART 1 (PG-13)**  
**DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT**  
**THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001**  
9:00 PM 

We sat on my couch, eating egg rolls with one hand and trolling through files with the other. I was reading autopsy reports on the latest in a string of victims that seemed to have been abducted and returned. Within days, they fell ill and died. Five such deaths had occurred, all in the small town of Warren, Connecticut. 

Now this town was 5 miles across and 7 miles wide. Population 1,000 - Whoopee! One four-way intersection, one general store, one church, one elementary school, one town hall, one fire house, and one ... everything essential. It was the ass end of nowhere, twenty miles past the last sign of civilization. The good news was it was in scenic Litchfield County, which was supposed to be the best place to be during peak foliage season. It was the first week in October and it was the beginning of peak 'leaf peeper' season as my partner called it. 

The victims all were dying from some virulent form of cancer. They disappeared healthy and were returned ill. The autopsy reports indicated that all the victims had been exposed to severe radiation of some kind. Radiation burns were found in various places on all the victims. 

Now, my partner had experienced radiation burns from his close encounter with what he claims was a sunken alien ship. He, however, had been lucky and his burns had healed. He was assuming now, of course, that these people had been taken and experimented on and exposed to the same form of alien 'radiation' that he had come in contact with. It had left them with cancer. He didn't have cancer, but was postulating that the victims' exposure was much more severe than his had been. Something was killing those people, but I doubted it was extra-terrestrial in nature. 

He leaned back on my couch and I watched him out of the corner of my eye. His hair had grown a little and was curling around the backs of his ears, and brushing the top of his collar. His glasses were perched on his face, and reflecting the light from the lamp sitting next to him on the table that sat next to my sofa. His long, graceful fingers held his egg roll as though it were a pointer. 

"Look at this, Scully. It says here in this state police report that the locals have long told stories about a mysterious area of town called Warren Woods. It's a town park, but apparently backed by a pond called Fisher's Pond. There is a trail leading around part of it, but the brush and undergrowth then grows too thick to continue. There have been reports of the pond 'boiling' in areas." 

"Boiling, Mulder?" I was incredulous and I sounded like it. 

"Probably something sunk in the pond that is periodically releasing pockets of air and causing turbulence in the pond. But they say it was a prime fishing spot until about five years ago when all the fish died and floated to the surface. They tried to restock it a couple of times and then gave up after they all kept dying." 

"So what are you saying?" 

"I'm saying that I want to see this pond. And I want to see if I can get someone to dredge it." 

"What do you think is down there?" 

He looked at me with that bright eyed, boyish expression he gets when he's about to propose something insane. "No, Mulder. Please don't tell me that you think there is an alien ship hiding in the bottom of the pond." I paused. "There's no case here Mulder!" 

He just continued to look at me and the corners of his mouth twitched. I let out a long suffering sigh. He grinned. "I'm not sure, Scully, but I like to see you squirm. You should see the expression you get on your face!" 

"What expression?" 

"The one that says, 'Oh no, not again! My partner's hanging a serious mental left turn.'" 

I frowned. "Thanks, Mulder!" I didn't even try to hid my sarcasm. "So what do you really think?" 

"Sorry, Scully. I love that expression. Anyway, I think that something is killing those fish and I want to find out what it is. What do you say? Trip to Connecticut tomorrow?" 

"How long is the flight?" 

"I thought we'd drive." 

"Drive? What, are you crazy?" 

"Certifiable if you ask most people," he quipped without missing a beat. 

I smiled. "Why do you want to drive?" 

"I lived up there all my life, hating the New Yorkers and Jersey City people that used to flock into the area this time of year, drive 25 miles per hour and stare at the hills." 

"And?" 

"And maybe I want to be a leaf peeper for a change! It's really beautiful, Scully. You should see it. You don't appreciate it when you live there. But after you've been gone a while, you miss it. I miss it. D.C. isn't exactly a natural garden, you know?" 

"You don't say?" My voice dripped sarcasm. 

He looked at me and then deflated. "You're right, Scully. There's no case here. We just don't have anything else to do. But the locals can dredge the pond if they are so inclined. I just thought that ... well, we never get to relax and yes, and if we checked this out ... it was just an excuse. We don't have anything else to do. And ..." 

"Spit it out, Mulder." 

"We could spend a nice relaxing weekend. Take in the leaves, go hiking, hang around the house, whatever. We never get away. And then we could check this thing out on Monday." 

"Wait a minute! What house?" 

"My house." 

"I repeat, what house?" 

He looked at me and grinned. "My father owned a house in Greenwich." 

"Your father owned a house ..." 

He was nodding slowly as if I was a slow child. "And now it's mine." 

I felt my eyes widen despite my best attempts to look unaffected. "You never told me you owned a house." 

"You never asked." 

"Mulder!" 

He looked away and set the file on the coffee table and took another bite of his egg roll. He chewed carefully. "Yeah, I know, lame answer." 

"Your father left you the house." 

"Yes." 

"And you didn't sell it." 

"Not yet." 

"Why?" 

He shrugged. "Never got around to it, I guess. I thought I might want to have a place to get away to, away from the city once in a while. I haven't been there since about six months after he died. I hired his former housekeeper and left. Haven't been back since, except for once." 

He shrugged again. He still wouldn't look at me. 

"Mulder, look at me." 

He turned and faced me, swallowing the last of his egg roll. His eyes darted away and then back to my face. I could feel the tension rolling off him suddenly. Gone was the grinning, playful partner of a moment ago. "Look, forget it Scully. I know you've probably got better things to do than spend the weekend with me. You see me every other day of the week, right? You probably want a weekend home alone. God knows you don't get many of them." He looked at the coffee table as if it had suddenly become very interesting. 

"No, I don't. Then again, I don't get away very often either." The thought of spending the weekend in the country with Mulder was more appealing than it should be. He was right. I should want to spend the weekend home, getting things done that had been neglected over the summer. He looked so dejected now. 

But spending the weekend with Mulder could be dangerous too. He had no idea how tempting this was to me. I could easily be lulled into thinking he meant more than just having a little relaxing weekend. Did he? Was that why he was suddenly acting so strange, so nervous? 

He glanced at me again and then shook his head slightly. "I don't know what I was thinking." He began gathering up the files and putting them in a pile. "It's late, I'd better be going." 

What the hell was going on here? Why did he suddenly want to bolt out of here. What did I say? Or not say? Oh, duh. 

"Mulder, wait." 

He stopped and looked at me, hands still on the piled files. "What?" 

I wanted a weekend away. And sad, but true, I wanted that weekend away with Mulder. When would we ever get another chance? It wasn't like I had a bunch of friends knocking down the door to take me away on a weekend get away. 

I could control myself. I know I could. And it might be fun. See where he grew up, have him tell me about the area. "O.K." 

"O.K. what?" 

I smiled gently at him, knowing I was going to shock him. He never expected me to agree from the beginning. I realized that now. And he was embarrassed that he had asked, that was the problem. God, I could be thick sometimes. "No, we'll drive." 

"We will?" 

"Yeah, tomorrow morning. Let me sleep in a little though. Pick me up at 8:00 AM." 

The smile that lit his face up made my heart roll over in my chest. Good lord, this man was going to be the death of me. He looked like a little boy that had been granted his most desired wish. He bit his lower lip. That killed me when he did that. What the hell was I doing? I was going away for the weekend with Mulder. But we were friends. We could do this. 

How would it look? 

Who cares? 

What were his intentions? Lord, I sounded like a stern father. 'Gee, son, what are your intentions with my daughter? I was having second thoughts already. But he actually looked happy as he stuffed the files into his briefcase and stood up, the big toothy smile still splashed across his face. Happy Mulder was a rare thing and I didn't have the heart to rescind my decision now and wipe that smile off his face. 

He stood and said, "O.K., I'm going to get going, go home and pack. Uh, bring some warm sweaters and stuff, it can get chilly at night. Do you have hiking boots?" 

"Yeah." 

"Bring those too." 

I nodded, his smile was infectious. "It'll be fun, Scully, I promise." 

I nodded again and stood to follow him to the door. He stepped into the hall and then turned suddenly and put a hand on the back of my neck. I squeaked as he pulled me to him and kissed my forehead, hard and quick. "God, Scully, you've made my month," he declared. 

He kissed my forehead again, this time slower and softer and I clenched my teeth to keep the shiver I experienced from showing on the outside. I looked up and he was grinning down at me. "Thanks, Scully." 

"For what?" 

He pulled me into a hug. "For being my friend." 

God, it was so easy to please this man, really. Thank you for being a friend! Oh God. I chuckled. "No problem, Mulder. You're a good friend to me too." 

He smiled at me again and then let go and waved over his shoulder as he trotted down the hall to the elevator. I watched the way his snug jeans hugged his rear end as he strode away from me, actually humming! I shook my head and grinned, ducking back into the apartment. My body could still feel the imprint of his warmth against my chest. My forehead tingled where his lips had brushed my skin. 

Was I crazy? How was I going to go an entire weekend, alone with Mulder and keep my hands off him? The urge had been gradually increasing in the last year or so. It was becoming nearly unbearable. He was still the same old Mulder. He still treated me with ultimate respect and kindness. Work was a buffer and a safe zone. I could fall back on the need for professionalism to distance myself from him when things got too 'close'. 

He could be a self-centered ass at times when he was wrapped up in a case, but he didn't mean to be. He always realized it later and apologized afterwards. I had come to accept it as being part of him that would always be there. He tended to be obsessive about things that interested him and that wasn't going to change. 

What would it be like to be an obsession of Fox Mulder's? I wondered. I shivered at the mere thoughts that this line of thinking was dredging up. Why hadn't he dated in all the time I'd known him? I'd asked myself that question more than once. Was it simply because he didn't have the time? He'd had offers. I knew that. 

I knew Diana had propositioned him, that chick in Kroner, Kansas had propositioned him. I wasn't sure, but I think Marita would probably jump him if he asked, and I know Phoebe would have. Then there was Bambi the Bimbo. For God sakes! Who names their child, Bambi? No, opportunities were not the problem. He'd had plenty of opportunities. And that's just the ones I knew about. 

I swallowed hard as I felt a lump form in my throat, remembering the crushing jealousy I'd experienced for every woman that had ever touched him. Sometimes it was light envy, other times it was devastating jealousy. Why? I had no right to be jealous. Mulder was not mine. 

Not mine. 

That was the problem and I knew it. I didn't want to face it. He wasn't mine and I ... did I want him to be? Would he want to be mine? I had been denying it for years, but I knew the answers to these questions. But facing them would mean that I had to do something about it, didn't it? Seven years of suspense was a long time to teeter on the knife edge of sexual tension. 

I sat down and put my fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp. I needed a shower. I flopped back on the couch instead, closing my eyes. I couldn't fall asleep. I needed to pack. I had some stuff that I always kept packed. A bag with a couple of suits and toiletries was always ready to go, but I needed casual clothes for this trip. 

Alone with Mulder for a whole weekend in a house in the country. I was insane, but I felt excited too. Why did I keep fooling myself? God, the way he looked at me when I said I would go! Was there any better feeling than making the brooding, introspective Fox Mulder happy. What that smile did to me! 

Did he not date because he ... wanted to be with me? NO! I couldn't let myself think that. It was a recipe for disaster. I knew I wasn't his type. I knew he liked and respected me. I also knew I drove him nuts, well, more nuts than he usually was on any given day. But sometimes I would catch him looking at me. His expression would be sad, or wistful by turns. If I caught him at it, he always looked like he wanted to say something, but he never did. 

He was rarely openly affectionate with me. The kiss on the forehead had taken me by surprise. He must have really been happy to be bold enough to do that. Those touches usually only came in times of sorrow and great need or illness. Why was that anyway? Was that the only time we felt we had a right to touch each other? No. It was the only time I felt I had an 'excuse' to touch him. 

Did I need one? He was my best friend after all. I shouldn't be afraid to touch him, but ... I was. Why? Who am I kidding? I know why. I'm afraid to touch him because if I do, he will touch me back. He's a much more tactile person than I am. I know he holds back out of respect for my boundaries. But if I touched him, it would be permission to be touched back. And I know in my heart what his touches will do to me if they last more than a couple of seconds. I've felt it. I've felt that sizzling tension between us before. 

So many times, I've come close to giving in to the urge to curl up into his warmth and take solace. In his hallway when he thought I was going to leave him. He looked like he'd had his heart ripped out. He was going to kiss me then, I know it. I felt the soft brush of his full lip and then ... that damned bee. What the hell? I'd replayed that near kiss in my mind a thousand times. 

What was his intent? To merely make me stay? Or was there more to it? Was it something he wanted, and at that moment felt that he had nothing to lose? Or was it just a ploy to get me to stay? I know he would have done anything to get me to stay. But in my heart, I also knew that he respected me way too much to use that sort of behavior as a tool against me. 

So what was the bottom line? 

One, my partner excited me much more than I was comfortable admitting. 

Two, my partner was a brilliant, kooky, intriguing, mysterious man. 

Three, my partner was sexy as hell. 

Four, my partner respected me and was my best friend. 

Five, I was going to spend the weekend with him ... alone. I swallowed hard again. 

Bottom line, I was excited about it. I could have him if I wanted him. I knew I could. All I'd have to do is make the first move. He'd told me he loved me. But he'd been in a drunken stupor from the drugs at the time. I knew he loved me as a friend. I also knew he was a normal, healthy, heterosexual male who hadn't gotten any in a long time. 

Neither had I. But it wasn't as simple as becoming lovers to relieve a need. We had a lot at stake. If we did this thing and it didn't work out, it could mean disaster. It could spell the end of a beautiful friendship and the end of a spectacular working relationship. 

On the other hand, I couldn't help but wonder what I was missing. Some instinct told me that he would be a great lover. I shivered again as I felt my nipples harden just at the thought of him touching me with those big hands. 

Shower. I needed a shower. I needed to pack. And then I needed to think some more. Was I ready to cross that line? Was I willing to risk what we had? These were questions I needed to answer before I ran willy-nilly into a situation that had enormous potential to backfire. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 2 (NC-17)**  
**FOX MULDER'S APARTMENT**  
**THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001**  
11:00 PM 

Holy Shit! Scully agreed to go away with me for the weekend! I couldn't believe it. And there was no case. I had just been using that for an excuse to lure her up there. She called me on the case and ... she still agreed to go! This was something that romantically involved couples did ... went away for the weekend together. It was an event in most relationships that marked an increase in commitment. You had your first date, you dated, and you slept over at each other's places. And then, you went away for the weekend together. 

My relationship with Scully was anything but conventional. We had come together as wary adversaries. We had progressed from aggravation and incredulity to respect and fondness. Then we had moved on to tentative friendship. Later, a deep and abiding trust and close friendship had bound us together. 

We had been there for each other through horrendous events, life altering events. We'd both had our faiths and beliefs shaken, stirred and put back together again. We'd lost our idealism. But our friendship and respect and trust for one another had survived, although all those things had been severely tested. 

We had touched before, hugged and comforted each other on several occasions. We had given comfort kisses on the forehead to one another. We had cried with each other. We even held hands a time or two. But it was always in response to a traumatic event. I almost kissed her when she was going to leave me, in my hallway. I'd felt my lips brush hers, feather light, and then that damn bee had stung her and almost tore my world to shreds. 

Then there was that lame kiss on New Year's Eve. I'd had to do it. I had to know what she would do. She didn't stop me. She didn't push me away. But she didn't encourage me either. One little indication and I would have swooped and devoured, despite my wounded arm. But there had been none. She had stood placidly, her eyes closed and let me do it. And that was all. I think I adequately hid my crushing disappointment when she didn't respond to me. 

Like most things, I wrote it off as just a New Year's kiss and never mentioned it again. Neither did she. We were the King and Queen of denial. There was something between us. Something fierce and arousing that bred unshakable loyalty to one another. She was essential to me. And I'd like to think that I was essential to her, although I question that on a daily basis. She's never said one way or the other what I really mean to her. 

I tried to tell her after I was unceremoniously dragged out of the freezing water of the Burmuda Triangle. Hypothermic and my head swimming with drugs and visions of a 1939 Dana Scully in my arms, I'd proclaimed my love for her. Stupid move. She'd dismissed me out of hand and nearly laughed in my face. I'd shrugged it off at the time, the drugs helping immensely to block my broken heart, but I'd been devastated later when the reality had hit me. 

She'd said, 'Oh, Brother', as if it was the most ridiculous thing I could have said. And she'd walked away, like she did in so many of my nightmares, leaving me alone, as always. 

She always came back though and that had to mean something. I was too close to her, to the situation. I had too much of an emotional vested interest in the outcome to be able to look at our relationship objectively, or to adequately figure out her reactions. Besides, profiling Scully seemed like the worst kind of invasion of privacy. 

But when she'd come to me, sweaty and disheveled from Africa, having found our holy grail, she'd been weak with relief to find me alive. I could feel it. And she touched my head and my arms and begged me to hold on. I could hear her, although she didn't know it. I could read minds then, sense emotions, but I couldn't speak. And I'd felt her unconditional acceptance and love for me flow over me like a warm blanket. She's never said the words. Maybe she never will. But I'd felt them. I also sensed that she hadn't put a name to those feelings. She didn't know what she felt for me at the time. She only knew that if I should die, she would be devastated. I took heart in that. 

As usual, after the whole ordeal was over, I began to doubt what I'd sensed and felt and heard from her mind. Perhaps I had put a name to those feelings, the name I WANTED to put on those feelings. Because I didn't doubt my own. I knew I loved her. I knew I was in love with her like I'd never been in love with anyone. And I knew a fierce, protective, strong and abiding love for my partner as a colleague, as a friend, as a companion, a scientist, and most of all, as a woman. I loved the woman, Dana Scully, not just the partner, Scully. 

She called me mercurial, but her moods were just as abrupt and changeable as mine, they were just different moods with different triggers. She was enigmatic and mysterious in some ways. In other ways, she was as predictable as rain after the sight of black clouds. 

Her mind was predictable, but her heart? Ah, her heart was a vast labyrinth of mystery. A mystery that I really had no hope of ever figuring out. But that was what made her so intriguing. It was what kept me coming back to her light, like a moth to a flame. I knew I could get burned, and burned badly. But I was helpless against the draw of her pure motives, her unconditional friendship, and her belief in spooky old me. 

So now, she was going away with me to my father's home for the weekend before the start of a case. Oh boy. What did it mean? Did it mean anything at all? We were friends after all. And I'd wrapped my invitation in a gift wrap of opportunity to get away and relax. This was something neither of us got the chance to do very often. She had vacationed a couple of times since our partnership began. Christmas' with her family, a certain trip to Maine one year that turned into a working holiday. 

And other than taking off to parts unknown to search out a hunch about my sister and one trip of Graceland, I hadn't had a vacation in over seven years. But that ill fated trip to Graceland. She had gone wild that time in Philadelphia, without me. 

She'd gotten a scratched face, burned hands, a black eye and a tattoo for her trouble. But she had been more mysterious and beautiful to me than she had ever been upon her return. And she had told me that not everything was about me. Clearly, I had overstepped my bounds of what I could expect from her. I had taken her for granted. And my heart paid the price. I was twisted with jealousy and rage over her indiscretion. At the same time, it made me want her more than ever. 

So now I had to take her away with me and I had to NOT read anything into this. It was going to be hard. I wanted so much for this to mean something. I wanted it to mean that her barriers were softening toward me. I wanted it to mean that she wanted something other than friendship from me. I wanted it to mean that I had a chance of someday hearing her say that she loved me. But I knew with resigned sense of fatality, that all this was just that. What I wanted. What I wished. Wishful thinking. 

I packed steadily as these thoughts ran through my head that evening. Despite my intellect telling me not to get my hopes up, I felt hope and excitement flare in my chest. Dana Scully was going away for the weekend with me, ... alone with me for the weekend. 

I jumped when the phone rang, startling me out of my self-absorbed revelry. I snatched up the receiver off the bedside table. 

"Mulder." 

'Mulder, it's me.' 

"Oh, hey, Scully. What's up?" 

'I was wondering if I should bring some things.' 

"What do mean?" 

"Should I bring candles?" 

"Candles?" 

"In case the power goes out." 

I laughed. "It's not a cabin in east Podunk, Scully. It's a fully equipped house. Even has indoor plumbing for your bathing pleasure. But if you want to bring candles, you can, or we can buy them there. I wouldn't mind sitting around with you by candlelight." 

She chuckled. 'Oh. Sorry. Um, should I bring a backpack?' 

"If you want. Again, we shouldn't need it. If we go hiking, it won't be an all day affair, unless you want it to be. I can always pack a lunch in a small cooler or basket or something." 

"Are you taking me on a picnic lunch, Mulder?" 

"I'll take you on whatever you like, Scully." 

There was a pregnant beat of silence. She cleared her throat. "So I've packed sweaters and sweatshirts, jeans, wool socks and hiking boots, even a winter jacket just in case. Can you think of anything else I should bring?" 

"Just your pretty, little fanny." 

'Mulder!' She sounded exasperated but amused. At least the comment didn't piss her off. It was rather juvenile and not something I would normally say. 

I laughed a little. I couldn't help it. "You might want to pack some jammies. I don't know what you usually wear to bed, but it can be cool at night in the fall there, although I can always crank the heat up." I bit my lip as I realized how that could sound if taken the wrong way. 

She ignored the possible double meaning as usual. "I have some warm jammies. Good. I guess that's it then. I'll see you in the morning." 

"O.K. Hey, Scully?" 

I was a little startled at how low and gravel my voice sounded when I spoke. "I'm really glad you agreed to go. I'm ... really looking forward to this." 

There was another beat of silence and then she said, "Me too, Mulder. Me too. Good night." 

"Night, Scully." I hung up the phone and zipped my suitcase, my packing complete. I'd managed to get everything into one oversized suitcase and one duffel bag. I walked them out and set them by the door and undressed down to my boxers. I looked at the couch and decided I wanted to sleep in the bed tonight. I wanted to get a good sleep and having just heard her voice, I didn't feel so lonely as I usually did. I slept on the couch often because I didn't like going to an empty bed, or waking up in one. If I slept on the couch, somehow it wasn't so bad. It was like I just fell asleep watching TV and didn't have to face the large, King size bed with no one in it to greet me. 

I shrugged, shucked off my boxers and crawled between the cool sheets, shivering slightly as I squirmed to try and warm them up. My eyes drifted closed and as usual, visions of Scully skittered across the back of eyelids. Scully with her lips pursed in annoyance. Scully with her eyes sparking with blue flint in anger. Scully smiling that full smile that made my chest tighten to the point where I couldn't breath. Scully's soft lips pressed against my forehead, her hands on my face. 

I felt my dick harden and slid my hand down to the inside of my thigh, teasing the hair there and feeling warmth rush into my groin. I moaned lightly, giving in to the nightly ritual. I cupped my balls gently and fondled them, feeling myself rise to fully erect. 

I pictured her flushed and angry, red rising up her chest and face. That angry flush I'd seen so many times transformed and before my mind's eye was an aroused Scully. She panted gently, her eyelids drooped with lazy arousal. Her stormy blue eyes clouded with desire. I imagined the feel of her lips against mine. 

I began stroking myself lazily but firmly. I imagined the feel of her silky skin against my chest and groaned as I stepped up my pace. My index finger pressed harshly below my head on that sensitive spot with every stroke. Her lips... I could imagine them wrapping around the swollen head of my cock. Her tongue swirling over the sensitive skin. Oh, this was so good. I swear I could actually feel her suck on me as my imagination took flight. 

I felt my balls coil suddenly and release in a fast, furious orgasm that left me spent. I panted and reached for the tissues on the bedside table to clean myself up. Maybe now I would be able to sleep. I looked at myself in the mirrors above the bed and talked to myself. "You're one sorry son of a bitch, you know that?" 

I closed my eyes and fell asleep within minutes. 

* * *

**DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT**  
**THURSDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2001**  
12:30 PM 

I'm going away for the weekend with Mulder. Oh my God. What did I say to him by agreeing to do this? I mean, he could take it entirely the wrong way and think that I wanted to advance this relationship beyond the point where it is now. 

Do I? Why did I accept? I knew before I said yes that it was a dangerous thing to do. And not because I fear that he will do anything that I didn't want him to do. In fact, I'm not even afraid he'll make a pass at me. He respects me too much and I've given him no reason before now to believe that I wanted anything else. 

What am I afraid of? Why am I so nervous? It's just Mulder. 

Nothing about Mulder or what I do with Mulder is JUST anything. Everything we do and say is laden with multiple meaning and levels of importance. We each chose the definition and meaning that we were the most comfortable with and ran with it. We ignored the rest. I have to be a fool not to recognize the incredible chemistry we have together. The near eerie ability we have to know what the other is thinking. 

But that's just it. I know what he is thinking, but rarely do I get a glimpse of what he is FEELING. He has that blank mask that he slips so easily into to place to hide his heart from me. Sometimes I am grateful for it. At other times, if I am honest, it hurts me. He trusts me with his life, but not with all his feelings. 

But then again, 'Hello pot, this is the kettle!' Was I any better? Did I ever pontificate on what things make me feel? Rarely. We have seen each others' hearts on the rare occasion when the pain or the fear was just too much bear and we didn't have the energy or the stamina to continue hiding it. On those occasions we had fallen into each other's arms like long lost lovers, reveling in the feel of safety and security that comes from knowing you are loved and cherished. 

Loved? Does he really love me? He tried to kiss me once but I convinced myself that it was only because he was desperate to make me stay. He said he loved me once, but he was so drugged up, I couldn't allow myself to believe him, lest I get my heart broken when he sobered up from his drug induced giddy euphoria. I viewed it much like you view the declaration of a happy drunk who loudly declares, 'I love you, man, really I do.' 

I viewed it with a combination of amusement, sadness, and acceptance. But I didn't take him seriously. But the things he has done for me are certainly above and beyond the call of duty. He's saved my life more times than I care to count. He's infuriated me with his alpha male protective bullshit. He's been tender and comforting when I was battling my own demons after the whole Phaster shooting fiasco. But what does that really mean anyway? 

I've done the same things for him. So I guess if I figure out why I did these things, I might have my answer as to why he did those things. Am I brave enough now to really look at that? I think I have to whether I am ready or not, because I don't want to make a fatal mistake in this relationship. It's too important to me, to my survival, to my sense of who I am. 

When did that happen? When did I begin measuring my success in life by the amount of praise and acceptance that I received from him? That wasn't very healthy. I knew I was generally a strong person. I knew that I could easily sublimate my independence to him if I let go of the tight grip on my emotions. Would that be such a bad thing? 

He would never harm me on purpose. This I know. But he has the potential to utterly destroy me emotionally without even meaning to. I know this too. So what does that mean? How can someone have that sort of power over you and only be 'a friend'? Is that even possible? 

The answer is 'No.' Mulder is much more than a partner to me. He is my other half, a part of me. I felt that he balanced my character defects. We were each other's polar opposite, but somehow instead of creating conflict, that created a balance and a flowing synergy between us that allowed us to operate as a team like a well oiled machine. At work it is undeniable, our ability to look at all sides of a thing has given us the highest solve rate in the Bureau on cases that no one else even wanted to attempt to figure out. What could we do with normal cases? Would there be anything, between the two of us, that we couldn't figure out? I doubted it. 

So then why is this so hard to figure out? Why can't we figure out each other. Because we've talked about cases. Because we've talked about theories. Because we've talked about evidence and fit the puzzle together. Ahh, but the puzzle of US. That, we never talk about. Why? Fear, plain and simple. 

What am I afraid of? Like I thought before. I know that he would never do anything that I didn't want him to do. I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid I will make a pass at him. I'm afraid, being alone with him for an entire weekend, will be more than I can resist. I'm afraid that I will break down my carefully constructed walls I have built against him and lose my control. 

And what would happen if I did? Aren't we good enough friends to weather the end of an affair, should it come to that? No. Once we take that final step across the line of human relationships and become intimate, there will be no going back. No going back to being friends would ever be enough. I know it. I'd bet that he knows it too. 

It could make us better. It could destroy us. But only if we let it. An intimate relationship would require an enormous effort on both our parts to communicate better. We communicate just fine on the job. But that talent would have to be released upon our personal lives. Could I do that? Yes, I think I could. It wouldn't be easy. Expressing my feelings has never been easy. But I think it wasn't easy because I was always afraid of being hurt. Always afraid that someone would use those emotions against me. I knew in my heart that Mulder would never do that. 

I would never do it to him either, because I love him. 

Oh lord. Did I just think that? Shit. 

I love him. I do love him. Oh God. Why didn't I realize it before? Too busy hiding behind the walls, that's why. And with sudden clarity I realized why I have done all the things I have for him, things that were against my nature. It's because I love him. And I know that the door must swing both ways. The extraordinary things he has done for me are because he loves me. And he could no more face life without me than I could without him. What is that but love? 

He feels my pain. I feel his pain. What is that, but love? I have panicked and felt devastation every time I have thought that I was going to lose him to death. What is that, but love? Railing against my helplessness in the face of his impending demise, what is that, but love? 

I've been a complete and utter idiot. Whew, that's something I never thought I would admit. Me, Dana Scully, and emotional idiot. Yes folks, there you have it. So what now? 

So I realized these things? Did that mean I was ready to act on them? Did it mean that he was ready to act on them? He'd invited me to go away with him for the weekend. Why had he done that? Just to spend time alone with me? He could do that here. Who am I kidding? It's not the same and I know it. 

I laid down on the bed, naked, my mind spinning with all the implications of this weekend. Without thought, my hands slid to my breasts, kneading them gently, grasping the nipples and rolling them into tight little buds. 

I moaned softly, feeling the familiar tingle between my legs. One hand slid down my abdomen and caressed the inside of my thigh, teasing myself. Oh man, I could picture it, his hands, twice the size of mine, gliding my inner thighs, feeling his rough calluses on my tender skin. I shivered and felt my labia grow moist and swollen, swallowing the resulting moan. 

My fingers slid up to rub up and down against my lips in an effort to relieve the slight ache that had began there at my juncture. His lips, I could imagine them sucking my nether lips between their plump fullness. His rough tongue lapping at my sex, swallowing my excitement for him. Damn, I wasn't going to do this again. I wasn't going to fantasize about him again. I couldn't help it. 

I resigned, sighed and rolled over to open the draw on the nightstand. I pulled out the long, smooth vibrator, Seven inches long and 1-1/2" wide hunk of plastic that would provide me with enough relief to sleep. 

I turned it on low, the gentle hum filling my ears as I rubbed it lightly over my clitoris, shuddering at the vibrations. I tipped it inside, holding my labia open and pressing it inside. I was so wet, it slid in without resistance and I pressed it in until just the last inch was peeking out. I rolled onto my stomach, one hand pinching my nipple, the other working the vibrator slowly in and out from between my legs. My face was mashed into the pillow, my breathing accelerating as I tipped it forward toward the front, searching for the elusive G-spot that would send me spinning to a quick conclusion. 

I could imagine his hard chest pressing against my back, his large hands kneading my butt cheeks. Or what would it be like to straddle him and ride him fast and deep, watching his face transform into expression of passion I'd imagined so many times before. What would he look like when he had an orgasm? 

I sped up my ministrations, using my fingers to let the vibrator slide out on its own and push it back in. The palm of my hand fell to my pubic bone, crushing my clit against the humming vibrations and hard, warm plastic pulsing between my legs. Those lips, I could picture them suckling my tits, those green eyes flashing with desire. 

That's it. Waves of pulsing pleasure rolled through me and I let them come, succumbing to the contractions of my womb and the unbearable tightening of my nipples. I shouted, "Oh God, Mulder, please!" 

I slumped in defeat, yanking the plastic from between my legs and twisting the end to shut it off. I stared at it for a moment before addressing the inanimate object. "You've been great, but I'm sorry, there's no substitute for the real thing." 

I sighed and grabbed a tissue to clean off the vibrator. I got up and ran a washcloth under hot water in the sink, cleaning myself up. No sense waking up sticky and nasty. I was bone tired now. 

I went back to the bed, my feet dragging on the carpet and crawled under the sheets. I grabbed my extra pillow, embracing it with both arms, setting my chin on the top of it. I closed my eyes, pretending he was there, pressed against me, and fell asleep at last. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 3 (R)**  
**GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT**  
**FOX MULDER'S HOUSE**  
**FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2001**  
4:00 PM 

I'd picked her up shortly before 8:00 AM. The eight hour drive had been surprisingly pleasurable. It was usually a drag, but then, the other times I'd made this trip, I had been alone. We took turns driving, stopped for lunch and ate it in the car as we continued on. She'd brought two suitcases. I'd almost laughed, knowing that she was usually such an economical packer. She'd defended herself, saying that on business trips, she knew what she was going to need. For this trip, she didn't. 

I wanted to make a quip about making more room by leaving her pajamas behind, but decided against it. No need to make her uncomfortable before we even got there. I didn't want her to think that making a pass at her was the intention of this trip. I didn't want her to think I invited her for the sole purpose of getting her alone and jumping her. 

Was that the reason I'd invited her? No, it wasn't. I'd invited her spur of the moment, never expecting that she would accept. I'd thought about inviting her up here many times, but never had the guts. The case was so close though and I found I couldn't resist. 

And now, here she was, sitting placidly in the car next to me, like so many other times. Only this time, we were going to my house. I still had a hard time thinking of it as my house. My father had purchased it and moved in shortly after the divorce. I'd rarely been here when he was alive, or since he was dead, maybe once a year for the obligatory familial visit. 

We would have dinner, stumble through stilted conversation and end up leaving things as awkward as they had ever been between us. We avoided the subject of my work and obsession like the plague and never mentioned my mother or her welfare. It was as if we knew instinctively that these topics were taboo for us and would lead to nothing good. 

Now he was gone and I was his sole heir. He'd left me this house. My mother had left me the house on the Vineyard and a summer cottage in New Hampshire. I had sold the cottage, but kept these two houses. I still wasn't sure why. Maybe in the back of my head I had imagined a future with a wife and kids and a place to go and settle down. 

I remember telling Scully when we were in Home, Pennsylvania, that if I was to settle down it would be in a place like that. That was a bit of a fabrication. I would have to be closer to civilization. But Greenwich was a heavily populated area, but with cul-de-sacs of privacy, much like where this house stood. Scully didn't know about the 28 foot cabin cruiser I had docked in Norwalk at the marina either. Another gift from dear old dad. I'd never felt the need to share these things with her. I was almost embarrassed by my wealth and that of my family at times. I'm not sure why, maybe because I knew her family grew up struggling to support four kids on a military salary. 

I knew Dana wouldn't have held that against me or automatically thought I was a snob because of it. I'd gone to Oxford for Christ's sake and not on a scholarship. She had to know that was hefty chunk of change. But I guess I felt the trappings of wealth represented a false image of my family that I had never been comfortable with or subscribed to. I felt that my father's money was blood money, ill gotten through his nefarious career with the Department of Justice. 

My mother's family had been wealthy. She had given them their start. My father had lived the American dream, married into money and made his own fortune with what seed money had been gifted to him by his father in law. Of course, bribes and payoffs from the shadow government and the Department of Justice hadn't hurt his bank account either. 

But it had cost us Samantha. I knew in my heart, that aliens or no, he was the cause of her abduction. He had allowed it. He had condoned her being taken as insurance against an invading alien race and their shadow conspiracy cohorts. It ensured that he would keep his mouth shut. 

And he did, for over 40 years. Then one fateful night, he opened his mouth ... to me. He was going to tell me of his horrid participation in a cover up so massive and gruesome that it was mind boggling. I sensed it. And he had broken the rules. Those bastards had known of his plan to spill the beans to me and had sent their dapper little assassin to his home and killed him in the bathroom while I waited ignorantly in the living room. I suppose that there was justice in my being able to enjoy the fruits of their labor and misfortune. 

I shook my head to clear it of these memories as I pulled into the driveway. The driveway was a long one, heading straight onto the property for about a quarter mile and ending in a circular drive at the front of the house. A fountain in the center of the top of the drive sported a water sprite carrying a jug that spurted water down her body and into a basin. It was silent and empty now and hadn't been used in years. 

The grass was neatly mowed and trimmed and I was sure the inside would be clean. I paid someone to mow the lawn and plow in the winter. And I kept a paid housekeeper who came every week to dust and vacuum. I had called her from the car to let her know that I was coming, ... with a guest and she assured me that all was well and she would be there when I arrived that afternoon. I told her that wasn't necessary, but she'd insisted. 

I'd known her for years and we had become friends by telephone since my father had passed away. 

Scully's eyes went wide as we approached the circular drive and I slid the car to a stop before the front stoop. The large wrap around porch with Greek white columns was impressive, even to me. The large mahogany front door swung open before I even exited the car and popped the trunk. 

Jodie Hallman, the housekeeper, came tripping down the stairs a wide smile on her face. She was a woman in her late forties who had worked for my father for nearly ten years before his death. She wrapped me in a tight embrace as Scully looked on. She was a tall woman with long brunette hair pulled back into a ribbon. It was showing shots of gray here and there. She had laugh lines around her eyes and affectionate grin on her face. 

"Fox, oh it's so good to see you!" 

I jerked my head up when I heard Scully mumble, "I'll bet." 

I caught her eyes and she looked embarrassed and quickly looked away. I disentangled myself from Jodie's embrace. "Good to see you too, Jodie. How have you been?" 

My eyes kept straying to Scully, wondering what was wrong. She was smiling, but it was her 'phony' smile, the one she pasted on to cover up anger. "I've been good, Fox, how about you?" 

"All right, I guess. Jodie, this is my ... very best friend, Dana Scully." 

Jodie spun on her heel and stuck out her hand to Scully. "Oh, so good to meet you. I've heard so much about you over the years!" 

Scully jerked an eyebrow into the air. "Is that so?" 

She shook Jodie's hand and I watched as Jodie's smile faded. "Yeah, uh, he calls now and again to give instructions on the upkeep here. He always talks about you." 

"Jodie, that's enough," I warned. Scully perked up then, out of her sullen mood that I hadn't understood. Her radar went up and she realized the chance to get some information from this woman. 

I cringed as I thought of all the things I'd told Jodie. I'd known her for years. She'd been loyal to my father and didn't know about his extra curricular activities in the government and I'd never enlightened her. She had always been a sympathetic ear and a safe one, being so far away. We'd been friends but most of that friendship conducted over the phone. 

Scully asked, "He always talks about me, huh? What does he say?" 

"Jodie," I warned again. 

She flashed an impish smile at me and I knew I was sunk. 

"Darlin'," she exclaimed, her slight British accent coming through. "You should hear him go on about how brave and brilliant you are. He's told me about how you've saved his life and comforted him when he was down." 

"Jodie, that's enough!" I nearly barked at her, trying not to get annoyed. 

She just smiled and continued talking. Scully was smiling now, enjoying my discomfiture immensely. "And that's not all," Jodie said with a sly tone to her voice, also enjoying my upset. It just made me angrier. 

Scully beamed. "Oh, do go on, please." I could tell she was ready to bust and despite my worry that Jodie would say something inappropriate, I liked seeing Scully with that mischievous glint in her blue eyes. 

"To be sure," Jodie quipped. "He's also gone on about how drop dead gorgeous you are and how you turn all the men's heads wherever you go." 

Scully's mouth dropped open now and I turned away, swallowing the sudden thickness in my throat. Damn her! This was going to be awkward. Now I did bark, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. "Jodie, I said that's enough. Now shut the fuck up!" 

Both women spun to face me, surprised by my outburst. I'd never talked to her that way. She took one look at my face and cringed. "Sorry, Fox. I'm ..." She backed up. "I'm really sorry, I was just ... having a little fun." 

I felt guilt crash down on my shoulders and I strode to Jodie in two long strides. I wrapped her up in my arms, feeling like a real ass. She tried to jerk out of my embrace but I held her fast. The tears were swimming in her eyes. I leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry Jodie. I shouldn't have barked. I'm sorry. It's just, she doesn't know ..." 

Her head jerked up to look me in the face. I was realizing that Jodie was the only person I had ever told that I was in love with my best friend, my partner. I'd never really thought about it before. She was wide eyed and brushed the tears from her eyes. I saw realization dawn on her an instant later. She knew now why I was so upset. I realized that the things I'd said may have led her to believe that Dana and I were involved. Well, we were, but not the way that my confessions may have hinted. She shook her head slightly. "Fox, you're an ass, you know that? A complete ass." 

She said this aloud. And although I'd whispered, Scully had obviously heard me. I let go of Jodie and turned as Scully asked, "I don't know what?" 

I just looked at her, "Later, Scully, O.K.? Please, just let it go. I'm sorry. I don't want to start this weekend off on a sour note. Let's just get our luggage inside and figure out what we are going to do for dinner. 

Jodie spoke up again. "I left a note on the kitchen counter so you would know where everything is kept. I'll be going now. If you need anything, give me a call." 

She turned and headed toward the three car garage attached to the house. Her mustang was parked there and she backed out, nearly pulling a donut as she peeled out of the driveway. I hung my head, knowing that my apologies were not nearly over as far as Jodie was concerned. 

Scully approached me with her no nonsense look on her face. "What the hell was that all about, Mulder?" I glanced at her and then away again. "Look at me, Mulder." 

I forced myself to meet her gaze. "I've known Jodie for over ten years. We've become friends since Dad died." 

"Some way to treat a friend, Mulder. It's a wonder you have any left." 

I hung my head again, swallowing and taking a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. "I know. I've never yelled at her like that." 

"Why did you? And look at me when I'm talking to you." 

I lifted my head again and said, "I panicked." 

"Why?" 

"I've confided in Jodie over the years. She was a good friend to my father, loyal, discreet. She was always fond of me." 

"I'll bet." 

I heard the clipped tone of her voice and looked at her a little harder. Could it be that she was jealous? Naw! 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly. 

"Scully? What is it? Does it bother you that Jodie and I are friends, or that you didn't know that we were friends." 

"You've never mentioned her, but that's beside the point. Don't try to side track me. I'm the one asking the questions. Now what just happened to set you off like that? She was just teasing." 

I filed away her response for later discussion. "When it comes to you, I don't like to be teased." 

She looked at me then and I saw something come over her face. It was realization. Realization of what, I'm not sure, but realization of something. She looked like she did when a huge piece of a puzzle fell into place on a case. 

Slowly, her voice softened now, she asked, "And why is that, Mulder?" 

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly gone dry. "I've confided things to Jodie. She was a 'safe' ear if you know what I mean. She was removed from my life, never intermingled with my friends in D.C. And sometimes I needed to talk to someone and she was always there for me." 

Scully nodded. "You didn't answer my question." 

"Can't we talk about this later, Scully?" 

"No, we can't." Her tone brooked no argument. 

I sighed. I decided to tell the truth, as little of it as I could get away with and not incriminate myself. "I was afraid she would say something ... embarrassing to me, something maybe I'm not ready ... for you to know." 

She looked at me then and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I was confiding in another woman, a friend she didn't even know existed. Jodie was a friend that knew things that I didn't trust her with. I could see all this in her face and I could see how it hurt her. 

"I see," she said. 

I put my hands on her shoulders and she cringed. I didn't let go. "Look at me, Scully." Now who wouldn't look who in the eye? 

She looked up, trying to mask her hurt but she couldn't. "It's not what you think. There's no one I trust more than you. You know everything important about me." 

"Is that so? Then if what she knows isn't important, why wouldn't you feel you could tell me." 

"Because it's too personal." Wrong thing to say. She looked absolutely crushed. "No! Damn it. I don't mean that the way it sounds." 

She jerked away from my hands and circled to the trunk, making a lunge for one of her suitcases from the open trunk. I followed her quickly and pushed it out of her hands, wrapping my arms around her from behind. "Stop it, Scully. Listen to me." 

She struggled for a second or two and then went limp. "I've told her things about you, Scully, but not personal things you wouldn't want anyone to know. I would never do that. I've told her things that I ... feel for you." 

I paused trying to think of a way to put this without launching into a discussion we weren't nearly ready to have. "You can tell this 'friend' how you feel about me, but you can't tell me? What's wrong with that picture, Mulder?" 

I sighed, pulling her tighter to my chest. My lips dropped down to talk into her ear. "I guess I should correct that, you're right. But I'm afraid a lot of the time, Scully." 

"Afraid of what? Me?" 

"No, not exactly you." 

"Then what? You aren't making any sense yet, Mulder." 

I took a deep breath and decided there was no getting out of this the easy way. "I'm afraid of what I feel for you, Scully." She shivered in my arms. I let my lips brush her ear, closing my eyes against the soft feel of her hair and skin on my face. 

"Mulder? Let go." 

I shook my head against hers, letting my lips brush the shell of her ear. She swallowed a whimper and I felt my groin tighten against her rear end. "No, you wanted an answer, Scully, you're going to get an answer. You insisted. Be careful what you ask for, Scully. You may get it." 

She squirmed slightly. "Mulder, please!" 

"Please what?" I asked, inflecting innocence into my voice. Christ, it felt so good to tower over her like this and feel her softness pressed against the length of my body. I didn't want to let go. 

"Let go, I'll let it drop now." 

I ignored her and whispered into her ear this time. My arousal found it's way into my voice despite my efforts to sound light and unconcerned. "I feel a LOT of things for you, Scully. But you're so ... distant with me sometimes. I'm afraid to tell you about them. I need you in my life, Scully and I don't ever want to scare you away with what I feel. Do you understand that? So I've held back ... afraid of ... risking what we have. Because what we have is precious to me." 

Her head fell back against my chest and she relaxed into my embrace. I sucked in a breath as her butt pressed into my crotch, feeling the blood drain from my head and make a quick trip south, stiffening me against her. I heard a little gasp from her but she didn't move. She was silent and we stood there for several long moments. Finally, I said, "So if you were to find out how I feel about you ... I didn't want you to hear it from Jodie." 

I loosened my arms and she tentatively stepped away, not turning to face me and dragged her suitcase out of the trunk without a word. Without turning to look at me, she walked toward the porch. I hoped I hadn't ruined everything. Shit! Why did this shit always happen to me? Why couldn't we just come here and have a nice weekend and enjoy each other's company? 

Damn Jodie and her big mouth anyway. I felt instantly contrite. This was not Jodie's fault. I should have sworn her to secrecy. I knew she wouldn't betray me. I should have told her before I came that she was not to repeat anything to Scully of what we had talked about, especially the last time. 

Oh well. I sighed and slung my duffel bag over my shoulder and yanked the other two suitcases out of my trunk. I slammed it shut and followed Scully up onto the porch. She had disappeared inside and I went through the door, kicking it closed behind me. She was standing in the middle of the parquet floor of the foyer, staring up at the balcony above her head and looking at the staircase, first one side and then the other that ran up the walls. A chandelier hung dead center over head in the cathedral ceiling. I looked about, experiencing a slight sense of wonder that I owned this place. 

Finally, a low whistle came out of her lips and she turned to face me. "Mulder, it's beautiful. I had no idea the place was so ... big and so ... beautiful." 

I chuckled. "Dad never was one to deny himself much in the way of creature comforts, Scully." 

She smiled at that. "Now they could be your creature comforts." 

"Nah. I'd have to leave D.C., my job ... " I paused. "I'd have to leave you Scully and I couldn't do that." 

I thought I saw her eyes grow moist before she turned away, picking up her suitcase again. "Where should I put this?" she asked, her voice a little less sure than it was before. 

I went towards the stairs, laden down with our suitcases and my duffel bag and headed up the stairs. Over my shoulder I said, "Follow me. We'll get this out of the way and then I'll give you the dime tour." 

* * *

* * *

**PART 4 (R)**  
**FOX MULDER'S HOUSE**  
**GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT**  
**FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2001**  
6:00 PM 

Mulder had told me to go ahead and take a bath while he made dinner. He had apparently instructed Jodie to stock the fridge and freezer and she had done just that. The house was incredible. It had a kitchen any chef would drool over with all the modern appliances. The living room was decorated in various shades of white with deep pile, shag carpet and a fireplace on the side wall. The dining room boasted a cherry dining set with exquisite dark cherry paneling and antique buffets. Mulder had showed me to the guest room, one of three he said and I had marveled at the beautiful dcor there as well. It had pink shag carpet and a canopy bed, with an antique bureau and a lovely vanity desk with a lighted mirror. 

I had been hard pressed to keep my mouth from hanging open. I didn't want to appear to be a nave hick, but God, I'd never known such beauty and luxury in a home before. He was nuts not to want to live here. 

He'd said he couldn't leave. He said he felt things for me that he was afraid to express. Did all that mean what I thought it meant? Did it mean what I wanted it to mean? I had realized that I had crossed a mental line somewhere and was thinking of him in a different light. My utter acceptance of the fact that I wanted more from him was a little startling. Shouldn't I be more upset about wanting that sort of thing from my partner? Shouldn't I be more... something? 

The feeling of calm acceptance about the strong emotions that were surging through me was a foreign thing. I'd never felt so ... SURE ... of myself, so sure of how I felt before. I was in love with him, there was no doubt about it. 

The stab of horrendous jealousy that ripped through me when he embraced that woman had nearly taken my breath away. She was older than us by a few years, yes. But she was his 'type', or what I had come to think of as his type. She was tall, brunette with a shapely figure and dark eyes, and rather well endowed in the chest area. 

I'd almost given myself away. I had to him. He'd seen it. Later, I'd been slightly embarrassed at my squeal of delight when I saw the enormous sunken bathtub in the master bath, that doubled as a Jacuzzi. He knew how I loved my baths. Mulder had laughed at my reaction, affection and amusement shining in his eyes when I'd turned to look at him. I was hit with how utterly handsome and sexy he was, especially when he laughed. It had been an effort to tear my eyes away from his face. I got into that tub and stayed in there until my skin was pruned with moisture. 

I had dressed in a light pull over sweater and worn jeans when I heard a rap on the bedroom door. "Come in." 

He swung the door open and shook his head as he saw me heading for the vanity with a towel on my head and my make up bag in the other. He strode to me and coaxed the bag out of my hand and set it on the vanity. I looked up with him with a question on my face. He smiled and reached up to pull the towel off my head. 

My hair fell in damp waves around my face and down my neck. His fingers reached for my temples and plunged into my hair, smoothing it back away from my face. I nearly staggered at the tingles that went shooting down my spine as the heat of his hands penetrated my scalp. He didn't stop, just continued running his fingers through my hair slowly, until all the tangles were out. My head was lolling around on my shoulder by then. I was unable to keep from expressing how good it felt. He was behind me when he finished and his hands dropped to my shoulders. I tipped my head back into his chest, placing the crown of my head on his sternum and looking up into his smiling face. 

His voice was low and soft when he uttered, "Don't blow dry it. I like it wavy." He paused. "Don't put make up on." 

My look questioned him. "It's just us, Scully. Leave it. You don't need it." 

I stood up and turned to face him. "But Mulder, I'm used to ..." 

He cut me off shaking his head, "Forget what you're used to. You're here to relax and enjoy yourself. There's no one to impress here." 

I chuckled and couldn't resist teasing him. "What if I want to impress you?" 

He smiled a sly smile. His thumb came up to brush across the mole above my lip and my hand flew to cover it up. "You'll impress me if you don't use make up all weekend." 

"I hate that mole," I said, not really knowing why I blurted that out. 

"I like it," he mumbled. 

I looked up at him. "Why would you like a mole, Mulder? They're hideous, especially to a woman." 

He smiled another lazy smile. "I love it because it's part of your face, Scully, part of you. And I love your beautiful face. I could stare at it all day." This was said softly but with confidence. Oh boy, was he pouring on the charm. These were not things he ever said to me. I felt myself grow warm under his unswerving regard. 

"It's still a mole, Mulder," I tried to sound flippant but it fell flat. 

"It's a beauty mark," he replied. 

"Whatever, it's ..." 

I nearly yelped when he leaned over suddenly and pressed his lips over my mole, sucking gently before letting go. His voice was gravel when he said, "It's beautiful, I like it. Dinner's ready. Come on down." 

He turned and left, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open, trying to regain my breath that was now panting out of my lungs. My hardened nipples stung from their sudden inflation at the soft touch of his lips against my face. He'd been so close to my lips. His action was so out of character. I hadn't been prepared. I never thought he'd be bold like that. Guess I'd opened a can of worms with the whole feelings thing, huh? 

Time to pay the piper. He was going to let me know, little by little. He'd seen my hurt when I knew that he had confided in Jodie and not me. And he was out to correct it, show me that he was willing to trust me, at least trying to trust me with his feelings. Be careful what you ask for, Dana, indeed. I was going to get it, and get it good. 

I hoped I could handle it without making a complete ass out of myself. I steadied myself and made my way downstairs, throwing my head back in a classic move of projecting confidence and strode into the dining room. The smell of freshly cooked steak assaulted my nose and my mouth watered. There were two steaks laid out on a platter, a bowl with four baked potatoes and a bowl with corn in it. The table was set with china and exquisite silverware. The lights were out and two red candles burned in the center of the bowls. The table was long and large. He had set a place at the head of the table and another immediately to his left. A candle light dinner. Was he trying to be romantic or just playing because he could? 

I was still staring at the set up when he entered with two wine glasses and an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, perfect with steak. He grinned at me and set the glasses down, waving toward the chair at the side of the table. I approached slowly as he poured the wine and placed one in front of each plate. When I arrived beside him, he pulled out the chair and I sat. He scooted me back up to the table and then sat himself. 

"Mulder, you didn't have to do all this." My voice was barely above whisper, and I cleared my throat immediately afterwards. 

He merely smiled at me. "I know, I wanted to." 

"I didn't know you could cook." 

He laughed good-naturedly at that and reached for the steak with a fork, stabbing it and placing it on my plate. He stabbed a potato and did the same and then spooned up some corn as well. Then he turned to his own plate. He caught me staring at him and said, "Eat, before it gets cold. I did yours well done, the way you like it." 

I picked up my silverware and began to cut up the steak, wondering how he knew that I liked my steak well done. It was perfect, cooked all the way through, no pink, but not burnt anywhere. I salted it lightly and put a little pepper as well and put margarine on my corn and potato that I proceeded to empty out and mash into my plate. He watched with amusement as I placed a dollop of butter in each half of the potato skins that I had carefully hollowed out, salting and peppering each with just a dash of condiment. I looked up to see him grinning at me. 

"What?" 

His grin grew wider. "I just love to watch you. You are so ... precise about so many things." I blushed and looked down at my plate, suddenly embarrassed. He continued. "Don't stop on my account." He started cutting up his own steak which I noticed was slightly pink in the center. 

"You like yours medium?" He nodded. "How did you know I liked mine well done?" 

He said, "How many times have we eaten together, Scully?" 

"Countless, but we're usually on the road." 

"Yes, we are. But I pay attention when you order. I know what you like." 

"Why would you care what I like to eat?" 

He looked up finished chewing a piece of meat. Then he quipped, "In case I ever had the opportunity to try and please you with my secret knowledge." 

I grinned and began eating. "Oh this is delicious!" I exclaimed. He grinned and nodded. 

"Glad you like it, eat up." 

We ate in silence for a while and sipped our wine, occasionally peeking at one another and flashing smiles each other's way. When we were finished, he told me to stay put and disappeared into the kitchen. 

He returned with whipped raspberry cheesecake that melted in my mouth. He admitted that Jodie had left that. His culinary skills did not extend to baking. I was absolutely stuffed at the end of it and collapsed back in my chair, groaning and holding my stomach. He grinned at me and held out a hand, hoisting me to my feet. We cleared the table and did the dishes, chatting about the case that was coming up on Monday. 

When we were finished, he turned to look at me. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it and just continued to look at me. I became self conscious and asked him, "What, what are you looking at?" 

"You, just thinking." 

"Thinking about what?" I knew that was a dangerous question. I really had to get a padlock on my tongue. Be careful what you ask for, Dana. 

"I love this." 

"What?" 

He shrugged. "Spending time with you outside work. I love eating with you, relaxing with you, doing something as normal and mundane as the dishes with you. It almost makes me think sometimes that we could be ... normal." 

I chuckled and quipped, "We are a lot of things, Mulder, but normal isn't one of them." 

He grinned then but there was a sadness behind it and I felt myself drawn to him. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the counter. His black turtleneck was tucked into his worn, black jeans. He was wearing black boots. He looked dark and mysterious, a lock of his thick chestnut hair falling across his forehead. God he was sexy, especially in a relaxed pose like this. 

I stepped to his side and he unlaced one arm and held it out. I hesitated but then stepped into him, pressing my front to his side and sliding my arms around his waist. His arms fell on my shoulders and curled around me, pulling my torso into his. He surprised me again when he dropped a chaste kiss onto the top of my head. He was so much taller than I was. I forgot that sometimes. I was always wearing three inch heels around him. Now I was in my sneakers. I felt his chest rumble against my breasts as he spoke again. 

"I know we'll never be normal, Scully, not completely. But sometimes I wish there was some ... balance in my life." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that I run around chasing weird things all day, drowning in frustration and need that never gets fulfilled. Then I go home to an empty apartment and eat alone, wishing there was someone there to talk to about the events of the day. I hate eating alone. I hate watching TV alone, wishing there was someone to share it with, just simple things." 

He paused and took a deep breath. His chest was warm and seeping into my breasts. The rumble of his chest as his baritone voice flowed out was lulling me into a dangerous state of relaxation. "Most normal people have stressful jobs, and crazy careers, maybe not as crazy as ours, but crazy and stressful nonetheless. But then they get to home to someone. Have someone hold them at night ... kiss away the tension ... make love to them after a hard day." 

I shuddered uncontrollably. His words were hitting home. They were thoughts I'd had myself and dismissed as silly. I had chosen my path and I had too much pride to admit that it wasn't always enough. I longed for those things too. A sense of normalcy after a crazy day. The comfort of companionship when I walked through the door at night. And yes, someone to make love to me. It had been so long! I snuggled closer to his side and he nuzzled the top of my head with his cheek. "This is so nice, Scully." 

"Hmmm?" 

"Holding you, feeling you relaxed against me, sated from a good meal, nothing to do for the rest of the evening. No pressing phone calls, files to read, nothing." 

"We have files to read." 

"Yup. And we'll start that Monday morning. From now on, no more talk of the case until Monday, O.K.? We are going to forget that the FBI and D.C. exist and we are going to be normal for the next two days." 

I chuckled. "Define normal, Mulder. Your idea of normal and mine might be two different things!" 

He chuckled and I loved the sound of it. "Let's go sit on the couch. I'll build a fire, you can pour some more wine." 

"O.K." I slowly pulled away from him, missing the heat of his body, the imprint of it lingering on my body. He smiled down at me and dropped another kiss on my forehead. I was surprised at my acceptance of this new level of connection. We didn't usually touch this much, or kiss this much, even these chaste kisses he was giving me. He was testing my boundaries, I knew he was. Each time I didn't stop him or react badly, I was giving permission for him to escalate this 'thing' between us. And I knew it. And he knew it. He smiled gently and pushed away from the counter. 

I watched his jeans hug his thighs and ass as he walked away. He was so graceful and comfortable in his lanky frame. I retrieved the wine from the fridge and poured two more glasses. I made my way into the living room in time to see him lighting the paper under the grate in the fireplace and standing to open the flu. The smoke curled and was sucked up the chimney, the paper igniting the kindling he'd laid down and soon catching the wood. A small blaze was going in no time. 

I inhaled deeply, smelling the wood smoke. "I love that smell." 

"Hmm," he responded and sat down close to me on the couch and reclined a little. He looked at me for all of two seconds and then scooted over and toed off his boots, leaning against the armrest. I raised an eyebrow at him and he motioned me toward him. I sat my wine down and toed off my sneakers, knowing I probably shouldn't get to comfortable with him. Hugging him in the bright kitchen was one thing. Reclining into his arms on the sofa in front of a fire was another thing entirely. He pressed his hip to the back of the couch, making more room for me and I tentatively reclined against his arm, laying on my back. He adjusted again so he was laying on his side, his arm supporting my neck and I sighed as I looked over at him. 

He was staring at me again and I couldn't continue to meet his eyes. "Scully?" 

"What?" My voice was breathy and I cursed my traitorous body's reaction to being this close to him. His hand slid across my abdomen, and his hand cupped my waist on the far side. He hesitated but then let the weight of his arm fall onto my stomach. He squirmed and snuggled in close. 

"Tell me about something you want to do in your life that you've never gotten to do." That wasn't what I expected, but I relaxed, knowing that he wasn't going to push this like I thought he might. 

"Hmmm. Let's see. I've always wanted to go to New Orleans. My father was an architecture buff, somewhat of a hobby for him. He used to always talk about the beautiful architecture to be seen there. He filled my head with stories of sultry summer nights and mansions in the Garden District. He talked about Bourbon Street and the jazz there that was like no where else in the world. He talked about the wonderful theaters and the churches that would take your breath away with their artwork and architectural splendor. He made it sound like a wonderland for the senses." 

Mulder nodded, causing his head to snuggle nicely into the groove between my shoulder and neck. His hot breath bathed the skin of my neck and I felt my breasts grow heavy. Good lord. He wasn't even doing anything, just ... breathing on me and my body was reacting. His voice rumbled out against my chest. "Sounds wonderful. We should go there together some time, take in the sights, stay in the Rue Royale, tour the French quarter." 

"Have you ever been there?" 

"Once. Unfortunately, I was on a serial killer case during my early days with VCS and I didn't have time to really look around much. Marti Gras was approaching and the authorities were terrified of the havoc this guy could reek in that atmosphere. People could disappear for days during that time and no one would even be suspicious. It isn't uncommon for people to get boozed and drugged up and disappear around that time. They usually return a few days later, hung over and in need of a shower, but none the worse for wear. But with a killer on the loose, it would be a perfect opportunity to snatch multiple people and no one would even miss them for several days." 

"Is that what happened?" 

"Naw. I told them he wouldn't do that, take multiple victims in a short span of time." 

"Why not?" 

"I knew him, unfortunately. My instincts and profile told me that he liked to play with his victims, terrorize them before he killed them. He liked to keep them alive for several days, taunting them with their imminent death. He would like to hear them beg for mercy." 

I shivered and this time not from the warmth of his body. He grunted. "Sorry. Too much information. Anyway, he wasn't a quickie killer, basically. Snatching and killing quickly would have taken all the fun out of it for him. As it was, we caught him two days before Mardi Gras and everyone was happy." 

I nodded, not wanting to ask any more questions about that. "Sorry, I shouldn't have gone into that much detail." 

"No, it's all right, but like you said, I'd like to leave work behind for a couple of days." 

"Hard to though, isn't it? It's such a part of our life." 

"It is our life, Mulder." 

He nodded solemnly. I felt it against my shoulder and shivered again as his razor stubble abraded my skin. His hand came up and he ran his thumb over my collarbone, his arm lying between my breasts. This was so ... intimate, this position we were in. It was starting to make me uncomfortable. At the same time, I felt a trickle of excitement and seemed frozen in place. 

He talked as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over my collar bone as if nothing unusual was happening and he did this sort of thing every day. "What else? What else would you like to have say, in the next five years." 

"A house of my own." 

"Like this one? I'll give it to you if you want." 

I laughed. "What would I do with a house this size?" The overwhelming thing was that I knew he meant it. If I asked for it, he would sign this house over to me in a heartbeat. It meant nothing to him, all this splendor, and all this money. God, I loved that about him. He was not caught up the material world as most people were. He didn't measure his success by the amount of toys he had. In fact, he had very few toys, or so I'd thought before now. I wondered what other surprises he had waiting for me in the future. He owned the house on the Vineyard too. 

"You could live in it, raise a family here." 

I felt tears sting the back of my eyes. A family, something I would never have. Well, I had my family but I would never have one of my own, hear the pitter patter of little feet. I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. 

"You know I couldn't do that, Mulder." I was hurt that he would tease me with that vision. 

"Why not?" 

"Why not?!" I nearly shouted, my voice laced with hurt and tears that I wished hadn't come through. He squeezed me tightly with the arm around my shoulders and said. 

"Hey, hey. I didn't mean to hurt you. I mean that, well, you could adopt children, Scully. You were going to adopt... Emily." He hesitated before saying her name. "Why couldn't you adopt another? Or two? There are hundreds of kids out there that need love. And you're the most loving woman I know. You would be a terrific mother, Scully." 

The tears I was trying so valiantly to contain fell then. I should have known he would never say something intentionally callous to me. I'd jumped to conclusions again, my sensitivities overtaking me. I knew intellectually that it was wrong. But my inability to have children had severely damaged my ability to think of myself as a desirable mate or wife for any man. I felt less than whole, less than complete, damaged goods. 

He murmured in my ear, turning my body into his, and pressing my chest to his. "Shhh, oh Scully, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm such an ass! Don't cry. Please don't cry." 

I sniffled against him, letting the tears come and clinging to him with a fierceness I hadn't displayed in many years. He held me just as tightly and continued cooing in my ear. "Oh, Scully, I'm so sorry. Shhh, forget what I said. I hate it when you cry, but let it out. You need to let it out. You never have really, have you?" 

I shook my head confirming his statement and let the sobs come. He held me tightly pressed to his body. He pulled up slightly on his elbow and tipped his body over me, one leg coming over mine to anchor me from falling off the couch and anchoring me to his body. I felt surrounded by him and safe as I let the misery come as I never had before. I had stuffed it down behind the anger and the useless rage and bitterness, never letting the loss of my womanhood really see the light of day. I was afraid that it would utterly destroy me if I ever let it out. 

But I was letting it out and it was O.K. It was O.K., because I was protected and safe and being shielded ... by Mulder. He would always shield me if he could. I could let it out here, safely with him wrapped around me and not fear that I would dissolve into nothingness. 

The hard planes of his body reminded me that I was still here, still alive, despite my losses and my misery. His fingers tunneled into my hair and he coaxed me to lie flat, propping himself on one hip. His arms, relieved now of their previous duty of preventing me from falling off the couch, came up to furiously wipe the tears off my cheeks. I quieted some and sniffled, blinking rapidly, the hot tears still coming. I stuttered, "Oh God, I'm sorry, Mulder." 

"Sorry for what?" 

"Sorry for breaking down, sorry for being so morose when we are supposed to be relaxing and enjoying ourselves. Jesus, I'm sorry." 

"Nothing to be sorry for. I'm flattered you are comfortable enough with me to let it out. I've been waiting for it for a long time." 

"Waiting for what?" 

"The explosion of all those suppressed emotions." 

"Don't analyze me, Mulder." 

"I'm not. I just knew you were hurting and I knew somehow that you'd never really given vent to your sorrow. I just hoped that I would be there to catch you when it finally broke loose. It was bound to someday." 

I nodded and the tears dried up some. He wiped them gently once more and let his body fall onto mine, covering one whole side of me. I was immediately infused with his heat, the other side of my body cold and aching for that heat. He stared into my face. I didn't know what to say. I smiled an embarrassed smile. "What are you doing, Mulder?" 

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. He whispered, "I have no idea." 

I laughed then and he did too. I tipped my head back looking at the ceiling and then squealed as I felt his lips touch my throat, and his tongue flick out to gently lap at my pulse. He stopped, his hot breath bathing my neck again. I was frozen. He was waiting to see if I would stop him. I should lower my head, I should not be exposing my neck in offering like this, but I couldn't move. 

After a few moments of silence, he slowly lowered his head to my neck again and began showering it with little kisses. Trailing his hot lips across my collar bone and up the column of my neck. He moved on to the area under my ear. "Oh!" I breathed out when his tongue lapped at the tender area. He slowly placed his lips around my earlobe and sucked gently, swirling his tongue over the small flap of flesh there. I moaned as warmth flooded my abdomen and my nipples grew hard. Jesus Christ! What was he doing? What was I letting him do? Stop him, Dana. Stop him. 

His razor stubble raked across my cheek as he slid his head over my face and lifted just far enough to look into my eyes. The question was written in every line of his face. He panted gently, his hazel eyes bright, his lids hooded. Desire, holy shit, that was a look of desire. It hit me like a hammer blow. He wanted me. I knew it, sort of. But to see it was a shock. He wasn't hiding it. He wanted me. He looked at me and saw a desirable woman. I was a little blown away by that. I was damaged, I was not his type, and I was his partner. 

He blinked slowly and as if he'd read my mind he said, "God, Scully, if I could describe my perfect woman, I just show people a picture of you." 

I gasped. "Per... hardly perfect, Mulder." 

"To me you are," he murmured. 

He was still for a moment but then shifted again to cover the other half of my body, covering my torso with his as he centered himself above me and took his weight on his elbows. His leg gently bumped mine, coaxing it to fall to the side and he let his weight down into the cradle of my hips. We both moaned at the feeling of our pelvis' crushed together. He was hot and hard and I could feel him pulsing right through his jeans and mine. His eyes were closed. 

"Scully?" 

"What?" 

His eyes opened. "Can I kiss you?" 

"You already did." 

"No, that was just a ... nibble." 

"Nibble?" I asked, having to suppress my urge to laugh. He looked so perfectly serious. Then he grinned. 

"Can I give you a real kiss?" 

"Real kiss?" 

He nodded, not willing to drag out the teasing game. His face grew serious and one hand came up to brush his fingers over my lips. He murmured, "You're so beautiful, Scully. God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" 

I shook my head, not really sure if I wanted to know in detail. I could feel one detail pulsing against my belly and making my pelvis wash with moisture and ache for that little detail. Well, not so little I realized as he slowly swiveled his hips and firmly pressed his entire length into my belly and ground himself into my juncture. I groaned, "Oh God, Mulder." 

"That's only part of what you do to me, Scully." 

"What else?" Those words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. 

"You can't see the other things, or feel them." 

"Like what?" 

"My heart racing, my chest getting tight, my mouth drying out like a desert." He licked his lips then, never taking his eyes off me. I could feel myself flushing from the chest up and tried to look away. His hands captured my head and wouldn't allow it. 

He head dipped down near my ear again. "You don't see my panic every time I don't know where you are, Scully. You don't feel my rage and jealousy every time another man looks at you like you are a meal. You don't feel my stomach turn over every time you touch me." 

He paused, his breathing heavy now. "When you're hurt or injured or sick, you don't feel my agony knowing I might lose you. But the biggest thing of all ..." 

"What?" 

"The worst thing I've hidden from you ..." 

"Tell me," I whispered. I didn't seem to be able to curb my curiosity at this point. I wanted to know. 

"I hide how much you mean to me, Scully, afraid you don't feel the same. I didn't want you to know how easily you could destroy me, how easily you could break my heart." 

"Break your heart?" I whispered. 

He took a huge breath and breathed into my ear, "I'm in love with you, Scully." His voice vibrated deep in my ear. "That's the secret I didn't want Jodie to tell you. I was waiting for her to blurt it out." 

The words were tumbling out of him now, in a nervous fashion. As though if he kept talking, he wouldn't have to face my response to his declaration. My heart was slamming against my rib cage. I couldn't see his face as it was buried in my hair, his lips to my ears. "She's the only one I ever told. I told her I was in love with you, Scully. But I never told her you didn't know. She thought, she thought we were couple. And I ... I didn't disabuse her of the notion. It was like ... talking to her I could pretend it was true. I could pretend you were mine. I wanted it so much." 

He panted quickly a couple times as though trying to stop tears and then continued. "I still do, Scully. I still want it so much. I'm sorry I hurt you earlier but I just imagined Jodie saying, 'He's told me how much he loves you.'" He hiccuped, his chest rolling against mine. "If you heard it from her, I would have died, and I knew you would have been so angry." 

He slid his arms under my shoulders then and clutched me to him, letting his weight down on my body. I sank into the cushions and held onto him tight. As if of their own accord, my legs spread and came up around his waist. He sunk against me, his erection still there through all his emotional turmoil. He was apparently ignoring it, so I did too. He cried softly against me for a few moments and then said, "Can you forgive me for telling her first. I'm so sorry, Scully." 

I was overcome with affection and love for him in that moment. He practically worshipped me. I was afraid someday that I would let him down. That was one of my biggest fears, one of my biggest secrets. I practically lived to make him feel safe and happy. He calmed and just breathed gently against me. I was warm now, a light sheen of sweat covering my chest and face. I blew my bangs out of my eyes and he lifted his head. His face was ravaged with a mixture of relief and fear. I hadn't tossed him off my body yet, but I hadn't really responded yet either. 

He just looked at me, waiting. For what, I wasn't sure. He swallowed and looked down then when I didn't respond. He flashed a look of annoyance, for himself I think and levered up onto his arms as though he would get off me. He confirmed it by saying, "I better move. I'm sorry, Scully. I shouldn't have ..." 

I stopped him with a hand on the back of his neck. I tugged gently and his head came down to me. My free hand slid around to his back and I pressed between his shoulder blades. He tentatively lowered himself on top of me again, our groins still pressed together, my legs still around his waist. He took a deep breath, just watching my face. 

I pulled him down and captured his bottom lip between my own. I worried it gently with my teeth and then sucked firmly. He groaned hoarsely and his mouth opened wide and covered mine. His tongue pushed into my mouth and explored every corner. I moaned into his mouth and he tipped my head for a better angle and deepened the kiss, playing with my tongue, lapping it and sucking on it. 

We pulled away when there was oxygen left to be had. His eyes were dark with arousal. His pupils dilated and his mouth slack. "God, Scully," he murmured. 

I was struggling to get my breathing under control and pressed gently on his chest. He quickly lifted off of me and swung around to sit on the couch. His head flopped onto the back of the couch and he breathed heavily, his eyes closed. "Mulder?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Are you O.K.?" 

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I got carried away." 

"That's all right. I let you." 

He nodded. "Are we O.K.?" 

"Yeah, we're O.K. I just, don't really know what to say right now." 

He chuckled a bit. "Me neither." 

He frowned. I spoke softly, incapable of anything else. "I've hurt you, haven't I?" 

"What do you mean? You've delighted me. You just let me kiss you ... for real. I never dreamed I'd get to do that." He paused. "Correction, I've dreamed about it a lot of times, but never expected it to ever happen." 

I grinned then. "It was ... extraordinary." 

He focused on me again then, sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," I whispered. 

He smiled then. "Does that mean I might get to do it again sometime?" 

I laughed then. "I'm sure you will." 

He gave me the full blown Mulder grin then, teeth and all and I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time ... joy. I realized how good I felt about me when I made him happy. How happy could I make him if I let him touch me, skin to skin? I shivered at the thought of it. How happy would I make him if I let him make love to me? I bit my tongue to keep from moaning. He was staring off into space and then asked suddenly. 

"When?" 

"When?" 

"Yeah, when will I be able to kiss you again?" 

I laughed. I couldn't help it. He sounded like a school boy who before giving his first kiss asked, "Are you ready?" I burst into giggles at that thought. He grinned at my amusement and shook his head. 

"I'm not sure, Mulder." I managed to choke out. 

He nodded, his smile fading. He nodded again. "Maybe we should go to bed." 

"It's early." 

"I know, but if I sit here too much longer, I ..." 

I understood. I stood up. "How about a short walk outside. It's a beautiful night and I'd like to look at the stars." 

"You want to look at the stars, Scully?" He was obviously teasing. "Don't you get enough of that during the week?" 

I laughed again. "Come on, get your coat." 

He stood and I pretended not to notice when he winced and yanked on the leg of his jeans to give his groin more room. I smirked to myself and turned away, not wanting to embarrass him if he saw that I noticed. Poor guy. He was probably going to want to take care of that at some point. That thought made me grin. 

He came alongside me and asked, "What are you grinning about?" 

"Oh nothing. Let's go for that walk." 

He strode by me and grabbed our coats that we had hung in the foyer in the coat closet and he held mine up while I slipped my arms into it. He shrugged into his leather jacket, looking for all the world, like a dark knight in his all black clothing and black leather bomber jacket. He opened the door and ushered me outside. He gave me a tour of the grounds, showing me the swimming pool I had failed to notice before. It was buttoned up for the winter now. I wished it was summer and we could go swimming. Would I be brave enough to wear a bikini in front of him? 

I blushed, grateful for the darkness hiding my unwarranted thoughts and reactions. He talked about the history of the place, the few times he'd been here with his dad, how Jodie had been so loyal to his father but untouched by his shenanigans in the government. She was blissfully ignorant of her employer's shady activities. I became grateful that she had been a friend to him when he needed one. The way he spoke of her, she treated him more like a son, despite that she was probably only seven or eight years older than he was. That was more of a relief to me than I was willing to cop to at that moment. I would keep that little feeling to myself for now. 

Just the thought that she would want to touch him had made me furious and green with jealousy. But apparently my reactions had been for naught. He had no interest in her that way, I could tell by the way he spoke of her. He respected her and appreciated her friendship but that was as far as it went. 

Finally, the wind picked up and my nose was getting cold. I laughed when he pulled me to him and locked his lips over the end of my nose, bathing it with his warm tongue. I wrinkled my nose in mock disgust and we'd laughed as we trotted back to the front of the house and stood on the porch gazing up at the stars. The night was clear and cold and the sky was full of bright white lights. He stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I sighed and relaxed back into his chest, enjoying just being with him like this. I could get used to this, I thought. I could get really used to this without much effort at all. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 5 (PG-13)**  
**FOX MULDER'S HOUSE**  
**GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT**  
**SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2001**  
9:00 AM 

The sleep I got that night was sketchy at best. I went over our conversation a hundred times, reviewing every facial expression. I remembered every little touch, my thumbs on her collar bone, my lips on her neck. She hadn't pushed me away. 

I taken the risk of the century telling her that I loved her, afraid that I was moving too fast. But the cat was out of the bag now and there was nothing I could do about it. I had meant to ease into touching her more and talking to her more about what she meant to me, what she did to me. But one touch and I was lost, I wanted more. 

How in the hell I managed to crawl off of her body after kissing her I have no idea. I could have pushed. She would have kissed me again I'm sure, but I didn't want her to regret anything later. And she hadn't really responded to my declaration of loving her, just insinuating that she wasn't angry about the incident with Jodie. 

Scully was still sleeping. I had called Jodie a half an hour ago, knowing she was an early riser and apologized for yelling at her again and explained why I had flipped out on her. She was amused at my mild deception of letting her think that I was already romantically involved with my partner. All she said was, 'you always were a dreamer.' 

I was too. For all my dark corners, I had a whimsical side too, that allowed me to have an active imagination and very active fantasy life. The problem was most of my fantasies included Scully. As time went on, the fantasies weren't enough any more. Now they definitely weren't. I strengthened my resolve to go back to my plan of wooing her carefully, being gentle with my revealing of affection. I loved to touch, I always had. I was starved for it. Perhaps that was true because of how little I was touched as a child. I really didn't know and didn't care. But Scully wasn't so much of a tactile person. 

But I wondered now if that wasn't a defense mechanism, removing herself physically from temptation, she kept herself safe from the tangling emotions that could ruin a career. But she was softening, I could tell by the touches she'd already allowed. Being away from D.C. was definitely a plus. I wish we had a week here. But Monday would come quickly. I had two more days to try and continuing the 'softening of Scully.' I knew there was a soft, passionate woman under all that gloss and professionalism. I just had to be patient. I knew now that she was attracted to me. That thrilled me to no end. But was there any more to it than that? 

I had to believe there was. Scully was not the type to have casual relationships. She wouldn't have kissed me just for a physical thrill. I know she wouldn't. She would know it meant more to me than that and wouldn't use me that way. Of that I was sure. I would be dead from the waist down if I didn't find myself excited that she liked my body or what I might be able to do for her physically. But I wanted her heart. I knew now that I needed it. 

Before now, I had been too afraid to try and go for the gold. But now, after last night, after that kiss, I felt confidence coming upon me. I felt hope. That was something dismally lacking in my life lately. Yes, I felt hope and all that it could mean for a future for me, for US. 

I wandered downstairs and began preparing breakfast. About 9:30 AM, she wandered into the kitchen, looking adorable in an oversized plaid flannel shirt and faded blue jeans. She was wearing moccasins for slippers with no socks. She was wearing no make up and her freckles sprayed across her nose and cheeks. Her hair was tousled and wavy from sleep. She yawned behind her hand and then looked at me sheepishly. She almost looked like a little girl. 

Then she stretched up onto her toes, locking her hands together and reaching for the ceiling. She groaned with the delight of stretched muscles and I couldn't take my eyes off her. A slice of stomach skin was exposed with her maneuver and my eyes riveted to her belly button. She lowered her arms and shook her head slightly as if to shake off the sleep and looked up at me ... and froze. 

I closed my eyes against the rush of blood below my belt and turned to face the stove again, hoping to cover my arousal that was now obvious in my sweats. I should have put on jeans this morning. They were more uncomfortable when it came to erections, but they hid more. I cleared my throat. "Good morning, sunshine. Want some eggs?" 

I was a little alarmed at how low my voice was. "Yes, please." 

So polite. Uh oh. "The usual?" 

"The usual?" 

"Yeah, two eggs, over hard with hash browns, small orange juice and a cup of coffee." 

She chuckled. "You really are paying attention, Mulder. I'm impressed." 

"Did you think I was fibbing?" 

"No, not really. I forget how frightening your memory is sometimes. Makes me feel dumb as a stump sometimes." 

I whirled my head around to look at her after flipping the eggs. "What do you mean? You're easily as smart as I am, that's one of the things I love about you. You challenge the hell out of me." 

She smiled. "Maybe, maybe not. But I don't have your memory and I never will. I wish I did." 

"It's not all gravy, Scully. Some things I'd give my eye teeth to forget, believe me." 

We lapsed into silence then and I finished cooking her eggs, spooning up the hash browns from the other frying pan and placing the dish in front of her with the small glass of orange juice. My arousal was under control now. I poured her a cup of coffee, one sugar, and a little cream and brought that over too and returned to cook my own. 

"Thanks, Mulder, I'm hungry." 

I smiled and finished cooking my own eggs, over easy. I freshened up my cup of coffee and joined her at the dinette table that sat off the side of this enormous kitchen. We ate in relative silence, except for her saying that it tasted great. 

When we were finished she asked, "So what's on the agenda for today?" 

"I thought maybe we could go to Branford and Stony Point. There are some great houses out there with nautical themes. I thought you might like to see them. We could go the Branford Crafts village. There's a great little restaurant there that serves gourmet lunches called 'Indulge'." 

"Sounds great. No hiking?" 

"Let's save that for tomorrow." 

"O.K. What should I wear?" 

"What you've got on is fine, but you might want some socks." I winked at her and she grinned. 

"I'm not going out like this!" 

"Why not, you look adorable in that oversized shirt." 

Her mouth dropped open but then she closed it again, deciding not to say anything. She blushed instead and I smiled wider. The next words just slipped out of my mouth. "God, Scully, I love being able to say what's on my mind around you." 

Both our smiles faded. She looked at her plate but then raised her head and looked at me again. "I ... I like it too, Mulder. Maybe someday I'll be as brave as you are." 

"You're not?" 

"No, there are a lot of things that I think or that cross my mind but don't come out of my mouth." 

"Let them come out. Your thoughts have always been a mystery to me. Not at work, or concerning work. I can read you pretty good concerning those things. But, personally, what you think when you look at me, I haven't a clue. What you think about spending time with me ... alone or outside of work, I haven't a clue, never have." 

She was silent for a few moments and swallowed. She licked her lips and I smiled at her. I could never get enough of just looking at her face and now that I was 'allowed' to do it, I couldn't stop. She returned my smile. 

"I feel a lot of things, Mulder, at different times. I'm so used to hiding, so used to ... presenting an image." 

"I know you are. But you do know by now that you don't need to do that with me, don't you? I won't hold it against you if you turn out to be human." 

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" 

I laughed. She knew I was teasing. "We all have emotions, Scully, I've never quite figured out why you think yours are such a defect." 

She sighed. "You don't know what it's like to be a woman, Mulder." 

I laughed then. "No, I don't, thank God." 

She chuckled a little. "I mean a woman in a man's world, especially in a man's working world." 

"No, I don't, but I can understand it. I've faced prejudgment, I've faced prejudice and incredulity from my peers. I've been ostracized for no good reason, simply because I was different. And ... I know what it feels like to have people be threatened by your intellect." 

"Yeah, I guess you can empathize, if not relate," she said. 

"I know it's not the same, but they are shades of the same thing. They produce the same feelings, I would think." 

"Probably." 

"But you're right, as a man, there are things that I don't have to worry about." 

"Well, you do have to worry about being taken seriously." 

I grinned. "Not with you. Scully." 

She smiled. "Never with me, Mulder." 

"That door swings both ways, Scully. You don't have to worry about showing yourself to me." 

She grinned then. "Oh, I'm sure I have to worry about showing myself to you. I trust you, Mulder, but I'm not quite sure I'm ready to face consequences if I SHOWED myself to you!" 

I burst out laughing. She was actually flirting with me, turning my words around and making them innuendo. I couldn't believe it ... and I loved it! 

"Would you like to find out what those consequences would be, my lady?" 

She grinned. "Not just yet." She looked away from me. 

"Not just yet, huh?" 

"No, not yet." 

I was careful to keep my voice teasing. "Scully? Does that mean that you will show yourself to me someday? Just... not yet?" 

She looked at me, struggling to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up. She blushed again and I couldn't get over how wonderful it made me feel to know I was one making her blush. 

She stood up abruptly and headed for the door. She looked over her shoulder and said, "Sooner than someday, Mulder, just ... not YET." 

I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs as she gave me a saucy look over her shoulder and bounced out of the room. I sat there for several minutes, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. 'Sooner than someday ... sooner than someday.' Oh God. WHEN?! 

* * *

**STONY CREEK, CT**

I was having a ball. Mulder had taken me on a tour of the peninsula on the sound, a tiny Borough known as Stony Creek. Houses with port holes for windows and elaborate eves were the norm. It was so ... quaint. 

He wanted to take me to Branford for lunch, so we just got coffee at the America's Cup Restaurant on the peer overlooking the water. We sat on the dock and watched the waves. He pointed out the 'Thimble Islands', and gave me the history. There was actually a mansion on one of those little islands, owned by someone lock, stock and barrel. It took up the whole island. I was enchanted by this area, never having known that the shore here was so rich in history and culture. 

* * *

**BRANFORD CRAFT'S VILLAGE**  
**BRANFORD, CT**

We made our way to Branford and cruised through several strip malls before ending up in the Crafts village. He bought me a little clock made out of sea shells, with the figurine of dolphin over the face. At 1:00 PM, we finally went to lunch at the restaurant he'd told me about. 

I burst out laughing when I saw the sign. It was an oval wooden sign with a large hog painted on it. It hung over the door from the iron trellis. The tag line on it was, 'Those who Indulge, Bulge!' 

We went in and feasted on broccoli strudel with flaky pastry crusts and chocolate covered brownies for dessert. I was moaning and holding my stomach again as we walked out, much to Mulder's delighted teasing and laughter. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun, just relaxing, shopping and cruising around aimlessly. 

I stopped by the car and turned to him, "God, Mulder, I'm having so much fun!" 

He grinned and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. "I'm glad, Scully." 

"Why are you biting your lip?" I asked teasingly. 

"Because my cheeks hurt." 

"Your cheeks hurt?" 

"Yeah, from smiling and laughing so much." 

I giggled, a sound I rarely heard from my mouth anymore. "Oh Mulder, that's a sure sign that you don't smile enough. Did you know that it takes about 7 or 8 muscles to smile and 17 muscles to frown?" 

"No, Dr. Scully," he said in a perfectly straight voice, "that medical tidbit has escaped my encyclopedic knowledge of the anatomy of the human face." 

I giggled again as I slid into the car. He slid behind the wheel and turned to me. "What now? Anyplace you want to go?" 

"You know the area." 

"Feel up to another half hour drive to Waterford?" 

"What's in Waterford?" 

"Harkness Park, The Eugene O'Neill Theater, Crystal Mall, the largest mall in New England, 3 square miles under roof, Scully! A shopper's dream. You can shop till you drop there!" 

I shook my head at him. "I think I've spent enough money today," I said, eyeing my packages in the back seat. I'd bought shirts and simple jewelry. I'd picked up a candle in the shape of an owl for my mother, and some children's books for my nephews." 

He smiled. "I'll buy you anything you want, Scully. We could even hit the Burlington Coat Factory, which is only about 20 minutes from Waterford in New London." 

"Whoa, whoa, since when do you offer to buy me things?" 

"If I thought you'd accept them, I would have been buying you gifts a long time ago." He was perfectly serious now. 

"Mulder, I don't want you to do that." 

"I figured you'd say that, Scully. I love you, kid, but you're not very gracious at accepting gifts, you know that." 

He was right. I had made a fuss and argued with him about that stupid clock for 20 minutes before giving in. "Mulder, I just don't want you spending your money on frivolous things, especially for me." 

"Why not? What else do I have to spend it on?" 

"Mulder, come on, you don't make that much higher of a salary than me, and I know you spend half of it on Armani suits and silk dress shirts. If I could only get you to spend it on some presentable ties, I'd be in heaven." 

He laughed. Then he sobered as I watched him, not knowing what else to say. "I have money, Scully." Simple, just a statement. I wasn't sure what he was getting at. 

"What do you mean? You save all your paychecks cause you never have any fun?" 

He shook his head, as though slightly exasperated. "Scully, ... I'm ... uh, well off. I don't work for the money." 

I stared at him as the implications of what he was saying sunk in. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but then shut it, not really knowing what I wanted to ask. 

He smiled, rather self consciously. "Ask, Scully. I know you want to ask me something." 

I took a deep breath. "What are you trying to tell me, Mulder?" 

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm ... wealthy, independently... wealthy." 

I just stared at him. "How wealthy?" 

I felt like a jerk as soon as the words slipped out of my mouth. He smiled, amused by stunned reaction, I'm sure. "I have enough money to buy you pretty much whatever you wanted." 

"Like what?" 

"Anything, clothes, jewelry, cars, whatever." 

"Cars!" 

He smiled. "Let's go to the mall, Scully. Scratch the park, we'll go hiking and have a picnic tomorrow. Today, we go super normal and hit the mall!" 

I grinned at his enthusiasm as he put the car in gear and backed out of our parking space, nearly squealing the tires as he peeled out of the parking lot. Now big malls, I'd seen, but I wasn't sure I'd ever seen one quite this big. He found a parking spot only about a quarter mile from the entrance and we chuckled as we got out. He made me laugh when he put his hand to his forehead like a visor and scanned the area as though looking at the horizon. I wasn't used to Mulder in a good mood. I wasn't used to Mulder being playful and I was finding that it was a huge turn on. 

* * *

**CRYSTAL MALL**  
**WATERFORD, CT**

I took off at a trot for the door and he bolted after me, easily catching me around the waist and lifting me off my feet. I squealed in mock horror and he swung me around in a circle, setting me back down on my feet. I turned to him, a huge smile on my face. I should have expected it, but I was totally taken off guard when he lowered his head and laid his mouth over mine. He pulled me to his chest and kissed me deeply, his tongue poking my teeth, asking for entrance. I opened my mouth to lodge a protest about kissing in public. 

His tongue slid inside and swirled around my tongue and I was caught up in the tingling sensation that spread through me. This was really only the second time he'd kissed me for real and we were in the middle of a mall parking lot. Anyone could see us. I feebly pushed on his chest but then gave in, just not caring and kissed him back. He moaned into my mouth and broke the kiss. 

"Whew!" he exclaimed playfully. "That was a mistake." 

I looked at him with what must have been a befuddled look on my face, because his smile faded and he said, "What? Did I cross an invisible line?" He dropped his arms. 

I couldn't think of an answer. I didn't know what the hell I was feeling, except that I was shocked by his boldness. He muttered, "Sorry, Scully. I shouldn't have ... sorry, I didn't think ..." 

I shook my head, deciding I wasn't going to make a major deal out of it. I had enjoyed the kiss, I'd just been totally taken off guard by it. "It's O.K., Mulder, you just ... shocked me was all. I didn't expect it." 

He smiled tentatively. "I'll be more careful." 

I nodded and his eyes darted away from me. No, no, this wouldn't do at all. I was not going to let this little things ruin the day. I reached up and palmed his cheek, turning him to look at me. "It's O.K., Mulder, really. Come on. Let's go shopping. First, I want to find a coffee shop. I'm dying for a good cappuccino." 

He grinned and started to step away from me. Impulsively, I grabbed his hand and laced my fingers between his. His large warm hand engulfed mine. He stared at our entwined hands and looked up at me and back at our hands several times, as if he couldn't believe I'd done that. A slow smile crept across his face. I was telling him that I really wasn't upset, not just saying that to make him feel better. He nodded, almost imperceptibly and we headed into the mall, hand in hand. 

I was surprised at how much this simple thing brought me so much ... happiness. I liked being away from D.C. and not working. We knew nobody here. And although it was always a possibility that we were being watched, it was unlikely. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been able to just simply hold a man's hand and revel in the feeling of being so comfortable with myself and with another person. 

He was obviously delighted by the gesture and periodically squeezed my hand gently as if to remind himself that we were really holding hands. 

We walked, window shopping. He never let go of my hand, he used the free one to point at things. He bought a new pair of Ray Bans and modeled them for me, strutting around until I was breathless giggling. Then we went on and he stopped dead suddenly and turned to me with a mischievous grin. 

"What, Mulder? I don't like that smile. What are you up to?" 

He grinned wider and pointed ahead of us a couple of stores up. 'Victoria's Secret.' I looked at the store and back to him. He was biting his lip and he looked so damn cute I just wanted to hug him. His eyes sparkled with anticipation. "Mulder, I don't wear that stuff!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because it's not ... me!" 

He leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Or is it just that you haven't had anyone to wear it for lately." 

I shivered. "I don't ... I don't know. I'd feel silly." 

He straightened up to look in my face. "I want to buy something for you." 

"NO, Mulder!" 

"Yes, Scully." 

"Even if I won't wear it?" 

He paused. "Even then, but I bet you'll wear it, you won't be able to resist. Even if you won't wear it for me, some quiet night, you'll see it sitting there in your drawer and you won't be able to resist putting it on." 

"Why would I do that?" I wouldn't admit it, but the idea of modeling lingerie for Mulder was more than a little titillating. I knew the kinds of movies he watched and was a little frightened about what he might pick out for me. 

"So you could feel sexy." 

"I'm not like that." 

"Not like what?" 

"I'm not like ... I'm not a ... sexy type of woman." 

He laughed and looked at me like I had two heads. "You're incredible, you know that? You're the sexiest woman I've ever known and you have absolutely no clue what you look like to other people, do you?" 

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. I was just NOT used to hearing these kinds of things from ANY man, let alone Mulder and it was throwing me completely off my beam. I had no prepared responses to comments like this. I didn't know how to react. He shook his head, "Come on." 

He pulled my hand and I followed him helplessly down the corridor and into Victoria's secret. He was very thorough, going through the racks, and the shelves, holding things up and discarding them. Despite my earlier reticence, I found myself, looking at some teddies with matching panties. They were more like camisoles. I could even wear them under a blouse if I wanted to. That would be interesting to wear something that silky and sexy under a staid wool suit to work. 

I heard him make a sound akin to 'Ah, ha!' I turned around and he was holding up a royal blue teddy with adjustable spaghetti straps and matching silky pants that looked almost like running shorts. Only, they were short, shorts! The neck line was low cut with matching lace trimming the bodice. He laid them against his chest and eyed me, waggling his eyebrows and I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "You're incorrigible, Mulder!" 

He stepped over to me and held it up against me. "It'll fit perfect," he declared. "And it will make your eyes glow so blue." 

I couldn't get over the compliments he was showering on me and his romantic little statements. I guess I knew all along that he had it in him. But he'd never thought he could get away with it, now he thought he could and I was being overwhelmed at being treated this way, by Mulder, especially. I wasn't quite sure how to handle it. 

I stuttered out, "How? How do you know ... it'll fit perfect?" 

He grinned and looked at the tag, "Size 6, 36C cup, panties are elastic waist. Perfect." 

My mouth dropped open. "How the hell did you know my bra size?" He really grinned then. 

"You don't really want me to answer that question, do you?" he quipped. 

I shook my head. "No, I guess I don't." 

He laughed and turned on his heel, heading for the register. Well, at least he hadn't bought anything too outrageous. He waved me over and I stood next to him, trying to avoid eye contact with the sales clerk. He said, "Go grab those coffees, there's a coffee kiosk right down the hall here. I'll be there in a minute." 

I nodded, grateful for the chance to escape. I was suddenly embarrassed to be standing there having Mulder buy me 'unmentionables.' I realized this was no time for my Catholic sensitivities to rear their ugly head, but sometimes I couldn't help it. And it wasn't as if I knew the sales clerk or would ever see her again. She was a young girl wearing too much make up and lip stick, chewing gum like a cow and batting her eyelashes at Mulder. She was one girl I wasn't worried about competing with and I turned and headed for the coffee bar. 

I had ordered, waited and received our coffees and was sitting at a small table with stools bolted to the floor nearby by the time he emerged and came toward me carrying a shopping bag with handles. He smiled and slid onto the stool, taking his coffee. "Hey Scully?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I want to ask you something and I don't want you to freak out on me, O.K.?" 

I looked at him sternly. "Mulder, just because I let you buy that teddy for me doesn't mean that I want you to suddenly go wild." 

He gave me his wide eyed innocent look and I struggled to maintain my stern countenance. "I want to get you something else, just because I want to, and I don't want you to ... read anything into it." 

"Uh oh, you're scaring me now, Mulder." 

He grinned. "I want to take you into ... Kay's Jewelers and buy you a ring." 

I gasped. "Mulder!" 

"Not that kind of ring," he said quickly. "Just a ring, any ring you want. Maybe something with your birthstone, a dinner ring, or something. Something fancy, frivolous that you wouldn't buy for yourself." 

I was shaking my head. This was getting out of hand. "No, Mulder! Absolutely not. You are not going to do this!" His face fell and he looked away from me. 

"Damn it, Mulder!" I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "It's not that I don't appreciate it, what you're trying to do, but ... but ... it's too much! And I'd feel funny. And nothing is just 'frivolous' between us. Everything with you means something else, and I ..." 

He turned to look at me and I was stunned at how hurt he look. Why? His voice was tight and slightly forced and I winced hearing it. "I'm glad you think that nothing is 'frivolous' between us, Scully. Really, I do. But everything with me DOES NOT mean something else. I've always been honest with you and I'm ... being honest now. It's just something I want to do ... just because I CAN, and I want to do something nice for you." 

"Oh, I know Mulder, but jewelry is so ... personal." 

He looked almost stricken and then my heart sunk as I saw his blank mask fall into place. His voice was the calm monotone he used to cover his hurt, "Gee, Scully, I'm sorry. Lord knows, we wouldn't want to get too personal." 

"Mulder, damn it! Why do you always have to take things the wrong way? Why are you so damn sensitive? Nothing I've said here was said to wound you or make you feel ... bad. It's me, Mulder. ME! I'm not good at ... accepting gifts like that." 

He stared at me for a few seconds. Despite his hurt, he would not look away. Then he said, "Why?" 

I shook my head, trying to think of a way to say what I felt. I was not very good at this. "I don't know. I've always felt that ... when someone gave me something ... really nice, that I owed them something. Or at least in the past, that's what always happened. The men in my life would try to buy my affection. They would bring me to dinner, buy me gifts and then be pissed off when I wouldn't jump in the sack with them. It's not that I'm frigid or anything. I just wasn't the kind of girl to jump that deeply into a relationship quickly." 

I looked up and if it was possible, he looked even more stricken than before. What did I say now? His voice was a hoarse whisper. "You put me in that category, Scully? You think I'm trying to buy your affection? You think I'm going to expect something in return? Because if you do, then you don't know me at all." 

I shook my head 'No.' "That's not it, Mulder. My reaction is a ... Pavlovian response. It's automatic, it's what I'm used to. I just responded the way I always have, based on my past experience, not even thinking about the fact that... I know you're different, Mulder. Please, you have to believe that I know that. And I wasn't insinuating that you were like them. But I ... " 

"Didn't think," he finished for me. 

I nodded. "Whenever somebody offers to buy or buys me something nice, it's like this automatic defense reflex flares inside me. I don't know why I didn't seem to make a distinction with you. I'm sorry. " I hung my head, looking intently at my coffee cup. 

He was silent for several moments and then said, "We're both wrong, Scully. You're wrong because I'm your best friend and you should know that I would never be so shallow with you. And I'm ... well, I'm way too damn sensitive. You're right about that. My problem is that ... " 

I looked up. "What? Go on." 

He took a deep breath through his nose, pressing his lips together. His voice dropped to just above a whisper again. He was looking at the table as though if he couldn't see my face it would be easier to speak. I knew the feeling. 

"I want so much ... for you to ... believe in me." I opened my mouth to protest and he glanced up, placing two fingers over my lips after reaching across the table. I closed my mouth and nodded, indicating that I would be quiet, for the moment. 

"It never mattered to me before you came along whether or not anyone believed in me or not. It never even mattered to me whether anyone liked me or not. I couldn't have cared less. But then you came along, Scully, and you ... crawled under my skin. I would catch myself acting like a little kid that wants approval from a parent." He paused. He flashed me a grin. "Even though my feelings toward you were anything but parental." 

I grinned back. He continued. "But ... the more I ... fell for you, the more I wanted to be a better ... person. I wanted to be the person that you believed me to be, even though I knew in my heart you were operating under this illusion that I was noble or ... a good man." 

I opened my mouth again but he shook his head to indicate that I couldn't speak yet. This was getting frustrating. "I'm not a good man, Scully. I haven't been a good man in long time. I've lived my life entirely for selfish purposes. I've used people, the Bureau's resources, whatever anyone would give me to further my cause. Even you, Scully. I even used you." 

Now I couldn't stay quiet. "Mulder, no! You are the most honorable man I know. At least you're honest about your goals and your purposes and your feelings. You never hid your agenda from me! And you didn't use me, I was sent to you. And I wanted to be there and I wanted to stay. Asking me to do my job is not using me, Mulder." 

He smiled a self-deprecating smile then. "I've asked you to do a lot more than your job, Scully, and you know it." 

I looked him in the eye. "And I've asked the same of you, Mulder. But that's because we became friends, more ... than just work partners ... a long time ago. And that's what friends do, they are there for each other. You've easily been there for me as much as I've ever been there for you." 

He shook his head. "I don't want to argue the fine points right now, Scully. I'm getting off track. The point of this conversation is that I've been trying to be better. I've been trying to be the kind of man you could be ... proud to be with, proud to work with. When I'm with you, it matters to me that you trust me, like me and know that I would never hurt you. I would never intentionally use you or ... be shallow with you. You've done so much for me, and I don't mean just the work. I mean that I like who I am when I'm with you. I like the person I want to be when I'm with you." 

He paused again, looking over my shoulder but then brought his eyes back to mine. "I feel indebted to you for that. I don't mean I OWE you, " he continued as I shook my head. "I mean I feel like you've given me something priceless. You gave me, ... ME ... Scully. You helped me figure out who I am and who I want to be outside of my obsessions. And I can never really repay you for that. But when I have the opportunity to do something nice for you, I want to do it. Not because I want to buy your affection ... or whatever. But just because it pleases me to PLEASE YOU." He paused again. "I wait all day sometimes just to see one of your smiles. And if I haven't seen it by the end of the day, I start making stupid jokes just to see if I can provoke one." 

His voice trailed off over the last sentence. I felt the tears sting my eyes. God, had he ever said anything sweeter? Had he ever made me feel so adored? My lord, he really did adore me. He loved me yes, and he loved me not just as a friend. I knew that now. But he also adored me." 

"Mulder ... you scare the shit out of me." 

He looked amused for a second. "Now that I can believe." 

We both chuckled. "I mean, it scares me that you put me on such a pedestal. I'm not perfect, Mulder. And someday I'll fall off ... and disappoint you. God, I never want to disappoint you, Mulder." 

He grinned. "Not logistically possible, Scully. You're incapable of disappointing me." 

"Don't be too sure about that." 

"Oh, you're capable of hurting me. You hurt me constantly, unintentionally. But there's nothing you could do that would let me down or disappoint me. I have faith that you will always be YOU. You stick to your beliefs and you don't let others sway you. I can count on that. I know you. None of us is perfect, Scully. But some of us, like you, are a lot more perfect than the rest of us." 

I laughed now. "You're good for my ego, Mulder." He smiled. My smile faded as I latched on to the other part of what he had said. "How do I hurt you, Mulder? I don't mean to ever hurt you." 

He hesitated. "I know. But you can't help it. It's who you are and I love you for that too." 

"You didn't answer my question." 

He sighed. "Every time you won't let me comfort you, hold you when you're upset, you hurt me. Every time you are in pain and won't let me take care of you or help you, you hurt me. I know you don't mean it this way, but it's like you don't trust me to take care of you. It's like you think I'm going to hold it against you for being human, like every other asshole you've ever let into your life." 

"It has nothing to do with my trust in you, Mulder." 

"I know, but that doesn't make it easier. It's like you don't want to be vulnerable in front of anyone and I can understand that. I love your strength. But I also need to feel mine sometimes. And nothing makes me feel better, more worthwhile, than knowing Dana Scully trusts me enough to be vulnerable in front of me. I was so ... grateful ... that you broke down with me last night." 

I didn't know what to say. "Don't misunderstand me. I don't enjoy your pain. Never. I feel your pain and constantly wish I could take it away from you. But I also felt worthwhile. I felt like you were finally letting me help you. You were finally trusting me to be completely open and vulnerable and trust that I would never hurt you with that knowledge you were giving me." 

I just stared at him, never having realized how significant my crying about Emily had been to him. I couldn't manage to talk very loud, but I did manage to talk above a whisper. "When you were holding me ... I felt safe, Mulder. I felt like I could let go and you would catch me, no matter how far I fell down into the pit of despair. God, it hurts so much to think about Emily and what might have been. But you were right. I grieved but in a destructive manner. I didn't let anyone share it with me. I think maybe I thought I deserved to be punished, like I was responsible for not saving her somehow, like there had to be something I could have done." 

"There wasn't Scully, and none of that was ever your fault." 

"I know that intellectually. I guess that I want someone to blame and blaming myself is the easiest thing to do." 

"Blame the men that took you. Blame me for letting them take you, but never blame yourself, Scully." 

"Oh no, if I'm not allowed to blame myself, then neither are you. I won't have it." He smiled at my no nonsense voice. 

I continued. "The point was that I do trust you, Mulder. I do know that you would never hurt me intentionally or use my weaknesses against me. But old habits die hard." 

"I know. I have a few bad ones to break myself, self-flagellation apparently being one of them." 

I grinned. "Maybe we can work on them together." 

"Hmmm, together, yeah, that sounds good, Scully. And by the way, your feelings are NOT weaknesses, Scully. My first order of business should be to help you realize that feeling things and showing those feelings only means one thing." 

"What's that?" 

"That you are human like the rest of us, and ... that you care. It means you care, Scully, and there's nothing wrong or weak about that." 

I stood up and slid out off my stool, pivoting around the little table. He raised his eyebrows in question and spun on the stool. I stepped neatly between his legs and wrapped my arms around him. His went around my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. He sighed. "God, I love being able to do this, public or no." 

I chuckled. "It will have to stop when we get back to D.C." 

"I know, no PDAs in D.C., but let me enjoy it for a while, huh?" 

I hummed in the back of my throat and lifted up on my toes to reach his neck, placing a soft kiss on his jugular. I didn't miss the shiver that ran down his spine. He looked down at me, a soft smile on his lips. "I love you, Scully." 

I felt the tears again and blinked furiously to hold them back. "Mulder, I ... please, when you say that ... I " 

"Feel like you should respond?" he finished for me. I nodded. "Don't. I don't expect you to respond. Just accept it, O.K. Now that I CAN say it, I WANT to say it. And I don't want you to ever say anything you don't mean." 

I nodded. "I won't. You know I won't." 

He gave me a quick, tight squeeze and slid off his stool with me in his arms. He draped his arm over my shoulder and picked up the shopping bag with his free hand. "Let's get out of here." 

"Yeah, I've had enough fun for one day." He chuckled and began ushering me through the crowd. 

* * *

* * *

**PART 6 (NC-17)**  
**FOX MULDER'S HOUSE**  
**GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT**  
**SATURDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2001**  
6:00 PM 

God, what a day. My emotions had been in turmoil all day. I'd had such a good time and I felt funny about that. I don't know why exactly, except to say that I wasn't used to being with Mulder outside of work. Even then, we talked about work. Yesterday and today, we'd talked very little about it. We'd just been two normal people, out shopping and seeing the sights. It was a pathetically normal thing to do and it had been exhilarating. 

It also made me a little sad. We didn't do this enough. It also reminded me of what I was missing by pursuing a career in the X-Files. I wanted more weekends like this to recharge my batteries and not worry about being spied on and global governmental conspiracies. And I was hard pressed not to do something about my attraction to my partner. 

I think despite my jealousy of all the other woman that had come and gone in his life, somewhere in the back of my head, I knew he loved me. And not just as a friend. But knowing for sure and hearing the words had an almost magical effect on me. It was as though all my fears and objections were melting away. I knew I loved him, but somehow I couldn't summon the courage to tell him. I thought about how unbelievably brave it was for him to tell me, knowing that I probably wouldn't return the sentiment. 

Of course, he'd had the added incentive of fearing Jodie would blurt it out in front of me. But still, he could have skirted the issue easily enough. I was never one to push him emotionally and he knew it. Then again, we could have flown up here Sunday night or Monday morning, but he'd invited me to spend the weekend here instead. Maybe he'd been planning this all along. No, he'd said he just wanted us to relax and be away from the city. And I was relaxing, despite the roller coaster my emotions seemed to be on. 

We skipped cooking and ordered a pizza. He ran out to get it and returned shortly. We ate in the living room again. I was full and mellow. He lit a fire in the fireplace and then returned to recline on the couch again. I turned and studied his face as he slouched there, his eyes on the ceiling, seemingly looking at nothing. We were not uncomfortable with the silence. My eyes were drawn first to his long eye lashes and the lock of hair falling across his forehead. Then I looked at his lips and remembered the feel of them, warm and soft, moving across mine and shivered. I'd turned to mush on this couch last night. And if he'd kept going, I can't say that I would have been able to stop him. 

But he had stopped. I wasn't really sure why. Maybe he was waiting for me, some sign from me. I was clueless what that might be. Not that I wasn't glad that he had pulled away. Or was I? I watched his Adam's apple bob slowly as he swallowed and closed his eyes, sighing gently. I remembered the taste of his salty skin on my lips, and the rapid beat of his pulse on my tongue. God, how that had excited me, knowing his heart was racing just as fast as mine. The feel of his weight on my body had been warm and delicious. I wanted to feel it again. 

The longer I sat there staring, the more I wanted to touch him, feel his skin under my hands, explore the planes of his chest and the tendons in his neck. Unbeknownst to me, I must have moaned quietly, because his head snapped to the side, catching my eyes in one silent heartbeat. I watched as his lips parted, just a sliver of those white teeth showing. His eye lids grew heavy as his breathing increased and his pupils dilated in the firelight that was dancing shadows across his handsome face. 

He didn't take his eyes off my face, but they did wander to my lips and back up to my eyes. Asking. He was asking with his eyes, without saying a word. I marveled again, how open he was being. He was making no attempt to hide and I was suddenly humbled by the bravery of that gesture. It was the ultimate gesture of trust, he was right. He allowed himself to be vulnerable with me often. I rarely let myself be the same with him. 

I wanted to be. Did I trust him that much? Yes, I did. I truly did believe that habit was the only thing that kept me reacting to him the same way I did to the past men in my life. But that was extremely unfair. Not only was Mulder UNLIKE anyone in my life before or since, he was an anomaly in a category all by himself. He was brilliant, kooky, intense, sexy, giving, generous. And he could be mine if I wanted him. 

And oh I wanted him. Could I be as brave? I smiled suddenly as I had the thought that I didn't want to be outdone in this, or less brave than he. True, this situation was completely different than chasing mutants and killers. But I'd spent the last seven years trying to prove myself, and I think I'd done a pretty good job. 

This man was in love with me. He adored me. I could see desire shining out of his eyes at this very moment and the intensity of his regard was overwhelming. I felt my breathing speed up to match his as my chest grew warm. 

His voice was like sand paper when he finally spoke and broke the long silence between us. "Do you have any idea... how much I want you?" 

I gasped slightly, feeling my nipples harden below the plain white bra I was wearing. Could I say it? What was I feeling right now? Simple. Just say it, I told myself. 

"Probably about as much as I want you," I whispered. His eyes closed and he gulped. His eyes fluttered open again and focused on my face. 

"Do you?" he asked tentatively, as if he was amazed to hear those words coming out of my mouth. I know I was! 

There was no way I could deny it now, no way I could lie. "Yes." Anyone else would have pounced. 

Oddly, neither of us moved. We just sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, soaking up the feeling of being able to say these things aloud. Silent communication was wonderful, but there was something about hearing the words that made the feelings real and right out there in front of your face. You couldn't turn away once you'd said the words. I hadn't said I loved him. But I'd told him I wanted him. That was a step in the right direction. 

But unlike times past, when we merrily ignored the signs and admissions that we made to each other, this time, I wanted action. No more denial. No more pretending it wasn't there. I stood slowly and his eyes followed me. I had a wicked idea and suddenly found it irresistible. 

"Stay here," I murmured. He nodded and I heard him moan softly as I left the room as his head hit the back of the couch again. I grinned to myself, scooping up the bag in the kitchen and bolting for the bathroom. 

I gasped when I upended the bag onto the counter in the bathroom. Not only was the teddy and panties in there, but he had purchased a garter and navy blue silk stockings to go with it. No wonder he sent me ahead for coffee, the sneak. I shook my head in wonder. God, could I really wear this? 

What would his face look like if he saw me in it? My hands shook as I shucked off my sweater and bra, then my jeans and sneakers. I put the garter on first and cursed as my hands continued to shake as I slid the exquisite silk over my legs and captured the top in the tiny plastic clasps. I put the panties on over it. They hung lose like running shorts over the stockings. I felt slightly silly, standing there with just that on and quickly pulled the teddy over my head, adjusting the straps. 

I turned to look in the mirror. Color was high in my cheeks and my eyes looked glassy. My nipples were hard and tingling from the feel of the silk rubbing lightly against the tortured peaks. Shoes, I needed shoes. Damn! They were upstairs. I stowed my clothes in the hamper in the corner and bolted out of the bathroom nearly slipping onto my ass as I hit the hard wood floor in the foyer and bolting around the corner and up the stairs. I quick glance showed him still in the position I had left him, head tipped back, eyes closed. Phew! He didn't see me. 

I went to my room and retrieved the 3" black pumps I had packed for Monday when I donned my G-woman suit to start this investigation. I slipped them on, feeling deliciously wicked. I had a stab of Catholic guilt and fear. Good girls weren't supposed to intentionally turn men on. I'd always harbored the heretical thought that men in the church made up that rule just because they weren't getting any and didn't want the temptation. I shook my head to relieve it of all thoughts in that vein. That way lay madness. No more second guessing. 

I was still trembling slightly as I made my way carefully back downstairs, clinging to the railing until my knuckles turned white. I walked on my toes, careful not to let my heels touch the wood floor and make noise. I nearly sighed when I reached the deep pile shag carpet of the living room and let my heels rest a second. My legs were trembling and I took a silent deep breath and a couple of careful steps until I was standing about a foot from the coffee table. He had put his stocking feet up on it and I took a moment to admire the way his jeans hugged his thighs, muscular from running. He had taken off his sweater when he got home and his snug tee shirt molded to the muscles in his chest. 

I felt a moment of panic as I looked down at myself, feeling goose flesh in spite of the fire and silly all of a sudden. Clamping down once again on my fear I said his name very quietly. "Mulder." 

His eyes slipped open slowly. One beat of silence and they popped open, his legs crashing into the coffee table as he slid them to the floor. He gasped loudly and his mouth fell open. He grabbed the edge of the coffee table, as if for support and stared. 

And stared. 

And stared some more. The only noticeable activity was a marked increase in his breathing tempo, and a pink flush to his neck and cheeks. Finally he licked his lips, his eyes traveling down to my feet and back up to my face for about the tenth time. I felt my amused smile creep across my face watching his reaction with not a little fascination. I was amazed that he was so struck by my appearance. And I felt a rush of elation. He stood up, not even trying to hide his arousal, and placed a palm over the bulge in his crotch, groaning loudly, never taking his eyes off me. 

I felt the scarlet flush rush up my chest, through my neck and spread over my face like wild fire. This was better than I could have hoped. He was so turned on! I was embarrassed but excited at the same time and felt my breasts grow heavy as he took a step towards me. He whispered, "Scully, you look too beautiful to be real." 

He reached for me and buried his fingers gently in my hair, moving in slow motion. I could feel the heat rolling off his body in waves and shuddered under the assault of sensation. "Does this mean what I think it means, Scully?" 

I found my mouth suddenly didn't have a speck of saliva. I hastily licked my lips and looked up to find his eyes riveted on my mouth. I nearly swooned from the look of the desire on his face. He was so sexy. I know I'd never met anyone that could affect me this way, with just a look. Knowing he wanted me like this was an aphrodisiac all by itself. I swallowed and still couldn't talk, a small squeak escaping the back of my throat. 

I finally gave up and just nodded in the affirmative. A breath I didn't realize he was holding whooshed out and his head began to fall toward mine. He captured my bottom lip between his and ran his tongue over the inside and then suckled it back into his mouth. I moaned as arousal flushed through my body and pooled below my navel. I swayed and he stepped into me, wrapping one strong arm around my back to support me. Good thing, or I probably would have toppled right off these stupid heels. 

His kiss was slow but became more insistent and soon our tongues were dueling for supremacy of the kiss. I decided, much to my surprise, that I rather liked Mulder taking the lead here. I'd started it but now I wasn't sure how to proceed. It didn't feel like I was going to have to do much steering. Especially if I gave him the green light. This way he could do what he wanted and I could learn. 

I'd always harbored a secret fear that I wouldn't admit to anyone. I never thought my body would stack up to the long legged, big breasted woman that always seemed to turn men heads. I was short, red headed and although proportional, I wasn't overly busty. 

The moment our chests made contact, I felt his heat wash over me again. I pulled at his tee shirt and he whipped it over his head. He pulled back and stood panting, looking at me. "Slow, we have to go slow. I want to remember every second of this." 

I smiled, waiting. He reached for me again but then stopped, arms mid-air. "Scully, what do you want?" 

I grinned. "Same thing you want." 

He chuckled. "Could you be more specific?" I laughed out loud then. 

"Mulder?" 

"What?" 

"It may be different later, but tonight ..." 

"Tonight?" 

"You're in the driver's seat. I want you to drive this train." 

His eyes closed and opened again, his breath whooshing out again, a tug playing with the corners of his mouth. "Are you sure?" 

I looked him straight in the eyes. "Positive." 

He hummed in the back of his throat and stepped towards me bending down. Before I could discern his purpose, he scooped me up, one arm behind my back, the other under my knees. I whooped loudly and then laughed as he hefted me easily and walked towards the stairs. "If I'm going to make love to the woman of my dreams, I'm damn well not going to do it on a couch," he quipped. 

"Aw, Mulder, the couch has a certain charm," I teased. 

He grinned. "Lots of pieces of furniture can have charm and I'd be glad to show you just how charming they can be. But this time, the first time, I want to do it right." 

I leaned my head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He easily bounced up the stairs, not even the slightest bit winded when he reached the top. I forgot how strong he was sometimes. He kicked open the door to the master bedroom and strode to the bed, setting me down gently. He looked at me for a second, and then turned and switched on the bedside lamp. The room filled with a soft glow, muted by the blue of the light shade. The bed was a replica of an antique brass bed, with the knobs on the posters and the fence like head and foot boards. He stood up and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He slowly slid them down his legs and bent to pull the denim over first one leg and then the other. He ripped off his socks and stood before me in his silk boxer briefs. 

My God, the man was gorgeous. The angles of his chest were set in relief by the shadows cast from the soft light of the lamp. My palms itched to feel his skin. His thighs were muscular as was his abdomen. His wide shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. I couldn't see it yet, but I knew his ass was tight and beautiful and exquisitely rounded and muscular. God knows I'd sneaked enough peeks at that over the years. He smiled softly and hooked his thumb in his boxers, pushing them down and letting them fall to the floor. He kicked them away and stood, letting me look at him. 

I devoured him with my eyes. His erection stood proud, bobbing gently, pulsing with blood. The head glistened with drops of pre-cum . Wow. 

Just WOW! The man was hung and he was very aroused. I felt another rush of arousal as I scanned his body again and then laid back. I whispered, "What do you want me to do?" 

He came forward and knelt on the bed. He carefully removed my shoes, dropping them with a soft thud to the floor. His hands skimmed up my stockings, barely touching, making me shiver with the tickle of it. He smiled again, his thumbs reaching the top and teasing the bare skin there. I gasped. He bit his lip and then looked up at me. "God, Scully, your skin is like silk. It's softer than this silk. I can't believe it." 

I smiled, saying nothing. He slowly grasped the panty shorts and pulled them slowly over the garters and off. Now my sex was exposed to the cool air and I blushed, feeling strange to be dressed only on the top. He crawled between my legs and lowered his face to shower the inside of my thigh with little feathery kisses as he coaxed my legs apart. He lifted one leg and then the next, to set them, foot flat on the bed. I looked down and gasped at the sight of his head between my legs. He grinned and then descended between my legs. 

I yelped at the first contact, nearly breaking his jaw when I bucked up suddenly. He chuckled, saying, "Whoa, girl." He grinned and pinned my hips down with his hands as I blushed with embarrassment. He licked me again and I sighed. 

He sucked on my labia and I moaned. 

He stuck his long, talented tongue inside, swirling it around and I groaned low, struggling to keep my hips still. 

He lifted his head and I whimpered in protest. Oh lord, I'd never liked having this done. I was always too self-conscious. I looked down again and saw the awe and amazement and love on his face and knew I'd never known a man make me feel so WANTED. Oh God, I was so in love with him. 

I felt a small wave of dizziness as he pressed two fingers inside and gently teased the front wall of my tunnel. I cringed with a delicious jolt when he found my G-spot and felt moisture gush between my legs and my nether lips swell to nearly bursting, starting up a slow pulsing ache in my crotch. 

I moaned again as he continued his assault. Then he lowered that beautiful mouth to me again, and sucked my clit into his mouth, dragging the flat of his tongue over it as it lay pinned between his lips. The rough texture of his tongue on my sensitive bud nearly sent me through the roof as I shrieked, feeling the unexpected orgasm rip through me like a lightening bolt. He licked again and brought another wave of rippling muscle spasms. "Muullddeerr! Oh God, Mulder, YES! Oh I love your mouth. Love your mouth." 

He pushed hard on the wall of my vagina and sucked hard on my bundle of nerves again and I groaned, "Ooohhh, Gooooooddd!" 

I felt completely boneless as he retreated and slowly made his way up on all fours and straddled me, staring at my face. I could do nothing but close my eyes and pant for a minute or so. I felt his hands busy on my shoulders, but couldn't summon the energy just yet to open my eyes and figure out what he was doing. 

Finally, I forced my eyes open, my neck struggling to operate my head. He had loosened both adjustable shoulder straps. Without removing the teddy, he slid the silk over my breasts and down until the neck line was framing my chest. He slid one strap and then the other down as I wriggled my arm backwards and out of the strap. I went to pull it down and off, but he stopped me, pinning my hands on the pillow beside my head and leaning down to kiss me tenderly. He broke the kiss and said, "This blue silk makes your eyes so blue." 

His hot, hardness was poking me in the thigh and I couldn't wait to have him inside. I'd waited so long to act on my impulses and now, to wait anymore was unbearable. I broke the kiss and nearly sobbed with frustration, "For God sakes, Mulder, you're driving me crazy. The suspense is killing me!" 

He chuckled low in his throat and lowered his head to capture my taut nipple in his mouth and lap it firmly, swirling his wet tongue around my areola and then sucking me into his mouth. I arched up off the bed and shouted an inarticulate sound. He treated the other breast to the same, taking his own sweet time. Bolts of tingling arousal shot to my womb with every suck and made it cringe with anticipation. 

I couldn't believe that I was so aroused again, having just came minutes before. But I was nearly frenzied by then, whimpering and clutching at his strong shoulders with my arms, trying to coax him toward me. I choked out, "Closer, Mulder, ... skin, need to feel you." 

He sank down onto me still supporting most of his weight on his elbows and I sighed in relief but it wasn't nearly enough. "Pleeeaaassseee, Mulder!" 

He kissed me again quickly and harshly and rasped out, "Please, what?" 

I shouted, half choking, half crying, and definitely out of my mind with lust and love, "I can't take it anymore. Jesus, Mulder! Get inside, NOW! I need you! Oh, please! Take me now!" 

He gasped and positioned himself at my entrance, a look of astonishment on his face. I'm quite sure he never expected to hear me beg him for it. I could see the shock and excitement my pleading had provoked. I was totally out of control, a rare event for me and even rarer that I let anyone witness it. But I couldn't help it. 

He slid slowly into me, pushing my tense walls wide as he eased his throbbing sex inside me. I groaned low and then sighed in relief when he was embedded fully. "Oh, yyeeaahh." 

I then merely sank into one continuous moan that rose and fell in volume as he stroked into me slowly with long, deep strokes. My volume was directly related to how much oxygen I had at any given moment. The feel of him, hot and hard, sliding in and out, massaging my aching core walls made my head spin. 

He stopped after a few strokes and lay still. My closed eyes snapped open to see if something was wrong. He looked at me, joy and awe written in every line of his face. And love, yes, there was so much love there too. His eyes were black and glassy. He murmured, "I think I've died and gone to heaven." 

* * *

This was beyond my wildest dreams. There I was, wondering if I'd get to make out with her again before the weekend was over. My hopes had been dashed when she left the room, telling me to stay. I figured she needed a few minutes alone after making her confession. 

Scully wants me! That thought, those words had my groin standing instantly at attention. It had taken every bit of will power I possessed not to make a grab for her when she said, ' Probably about as much as I want you,'. I thought I was going to pass out from the shock. 

But then she appears before me like a vision of Venus risen swathed in blue silk. I nearly injured myself trying to lower my legs to the floor and stand up. I couldn't at first. I didn't trust my legs to hold me. I was trembling from head to toe at the vision presented before me. She looked even lovelier than I'd imagined when I bought it for her. 

For a short person, Dana Scully has the most incredible legs I've ever seen. Despite her height, they are muscular and perfectly proportioned to the rest of her body. Seeing those garter belt straps peeking out from below the shorts panties nearly did me in. 

I thought that was going to kill me until I raised my eyes and locked in on her aroused, tight nipples poking through the silk. But the best was her face, flushed with arousal. I could sense her nervousness. It hit me like a brick that she was afraid of my reaction and I nearly laughed out loud at her insecurity. But I managed to tamp it down, stand and walk to her. From there on out it's a blur of pictures, snapshots forever etched on the canvas of my brain. Dana Scully standing there in blue silk, wearing 3" fuck me pumps. It's a wonder I could walk at all, let alone carry her up the stairs, but I managed. I hope she didn't feel me shaking. 

It was finally going to happen. But I guess I had my doubts right up until this moment. Until this moment, the exquisite moment of the first push into a woman you've never been with before, a guy is never sure if it will happen. Women have the option of backing out at any time. But she didn't, much to my delight. I kept waiting for her to panic and stop me. 

I had to play with her perfect breasts for a while first, and had delighted in her unreserved, passionate response to my touch. It had kicked my arousal up another touch. I was tingling with the suspense of it, starting to shake inside with anticipation, just when she uttered those very words, that the suspense was killing her. Yeah, honey, I've stored up seven years worth of suspense. 

I wanted her to want me as badly as I wanted her. I'd almost given up accomplishing that goal and said, 'screw it', no pun intended and dove into her when it happened. Dana Scully begged me to take her. Her words were still tumbling around in my head making me dizzy. 'I can't take it anymore. Jesus, Mulder! Get inside, NOW! I need you! Oh, please! Take me now!' 

Her groan of relief and then later an infinitely satisfied sigh when I was finally sheathed in her hot, tightness, was nearly my undoing. I couldn't believe that I, ME, Fox Mulder, had made her feel this way. Ice Queen my ass, more like the Flame Queen! 

Her hot, snug walls, clutched at my aching cock, muscles fluttering with tension as I slowly drew in and out, biting my lip to keep myself anchored in reality. It had been a while for her and I didn't want to make her sore. I had to stop or this was going to be over too soon. She was unbelievably tight. I was too overwhelmed with the feeling of being inside her. My heart was slamming against my ribs and I had already broken out with a fine sheen of sweat all over my body. I stopped and remained still for a few moments, willing my heart to slow down. We had time. No need to rush. 

I groaned out, "I think I've died and gone to heaven." A lazy smile appeared on her face, the corners of her mouth twitching madly. I lowered my head and devoured her mouth as I began moving again, feeling a bit more under control. 

I stopped several times to calm down when the sensations threatened to overwhelm me. She didn't seem to object. Her legs were wrapped around my waist, her ankles hooked together just above my ass. The feeling of the silk stockings sliding over my skin with every thrust was exquisite. Her teddy was bunched around her waist and I took a moment to feel the chagrin of not having taken it off. She saw me look at it and grinned. "Stop a second," she muttered. I did and she reached down and ripped the scrap of silk up and over her head, making her hair fan out on the pillow underneath her. 

I grinned and stuck an arm under her lower back, lifting her slightly so that I could slide my stomach over hers with every thrust. I could feel the lace of her garter belt scraping my stomach lightly. I was making love to Dana Scully while she wore garters and stockings. It was a dream, literally, come true out of one of my most lurid fantasies. I still couldn't wrap my mind around it. 

I couldn't get close enough. I concentrated on her and bringing her the edge several times. She didn't know it but I'd jerked off in the bathroom when we got home from the mall. I knew I'd never make it if I didn't. I'd been in a state of semi-arousal all day. I was starting to get the brain fuzzies from unrelieved arousal. 

I was glad I did now, or I never would have been able to hold out as long as I did. She was meeting my thrusts as I sped up, hitting her hard now and squishing her into the mattress with every thrust. She grunted and moaned, her chest flushed. Her eyes were closed and her head swung back and forth, her tiny hands gripping my biceps in a death grip. I was beyond coherent speech or thought at this moment and just went on auto pilot. My brain was in a total testosterone fog as I pounded in and out of her. I felt her tunnel grip me tightly and then spasm around me. She shouted my name as she had her orgasm, a good one too, I think. My name had never sounded sweeter. "Ohhh, Mmuullddeerr, Yes! Right there, oh God, yes! Muullddeerr!" 

I managed to hold on and lowered my mouth to kiss her again as I continued to stroke into her. I stopped again, now because I was tired, as well as ready to come any second now. She blinked slowly and mumbled, "Oh God, Mulder, it's never been this good." 

I was overwhelmed hearing those words. I reveled for a second or two in the knowledge that I was making her feel things no one else ever had. 

MINE. She was all mine now. My voice was raw and gravelly as I asked, "Can you roll over?" 

She flashed me a smile and nodded. We both groaned as I pulled out. The cool air hit my soaking cock and I hissed at the slight freeze/burn sensation that caused. She rolled over and I grabbed a pillow, stuffing it under her hips. I was about to lower myself to her when she raised up on all fours and turned her head to look at me over her shoulder. 

She was smiling from ear to ear. Her hair was sticking out in twenty different directions. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glinting in the soft lamp light. I sucked in my breath at the impact of that smile, the way she looked right now, literally offering herself to me. I moaned as I slipped up behind her and grasped her hips firmly. I knew I would be able to penetrate deeply this way, despite her tiny size. She had taken me in before in stride, so wet and ready for me, it made my head spin. 

She moaned as I slid home and began pushing back into me as I began to stroke. In no time, I was slamming into her, our sweaty skin smacking together as we bounced together and away again. I was pressing in so deep. Her shapely little ass stuck up pertly in the air. I could see her sphincter muscle winking at me with every push. I reached down and wet my thumb in her juices and returned to ply at her back door gently. The squeak of surprise from her quickly turned into the lowest, sexiest groan I'd ever heard. I slid my thumb into her gently, and slowly until it was all the way in. I began pulling it in and out as I kept pumping my cock into her hot wetness. This slowed me down some but that was O.K. 

I watched in amazement as she went totally wild, her hips thrashing, slamming back into me, her sounds escalating. I was glad we weren't in her apartment or mine or we'd both be waking all our neighbors. My whole body spasmed suddenly in response to her wild groaning. It caused me to push into her a little more harshly than I intended with my thumb and my cock. I gasped, expecting her to make a sound revealing pain. Instead, she shattered into another orgasm, screaming, "Aaaaahhhhh, Muuullldddeeerrr! Jesus! So deep. Yes! Oh fuck, you're making me come aggaaiinnn!" 

She shrieked again as her walls trembled tightly, messaging my cock, and it was too much for me. I ripped my thumb out of her ass and began pumping into her like a madman. I was completely possessed and knew nothing but the small area where our bodies were joined. I watched myself slam in and out of her, gripping her hips, still blown away that I was doing this with her. She shouted, "Yes, Mulder, come for me, that's it, do it hard. Come for me." 

That's all I needed to hear. I felt my spine tingle and my balls coil. My cock became so rigid it hurt for about two seconds and then I was screaming as I let go of my own release and filled her with my sperm. "Scully! Oh shit! Oh God! Oh Yeah! Ooohhh!" 

I couldn't ever remember making a deposit quite that big. We both collapsed and I summoned the energy to roll off her. She rolled to her side to face and me and curled up against my side as we spent the next few minutes recovering. I looked down at her and she had the most languid, sated look on her face. 

I put that there. I couldn't help the grin that invaded my face. My cheeks still hurt from all the smiling and laughing I'd done today. That was a sad statement, told how much I laughed and smiled regularly. I thought that just might change now. 

She placed a few butterfly kisses on my chest and side and then sighed. "You, O.K., Scully?" 

She raised her head to look at me, smiling softly. "I've never been this O.K., Mulder. That was ... fabulous. Oh God, I can't even put it into words. You're an amazing lover." Her head flopped back down and I grinned like an idiot again. Thank goodness I'd gone into the bathroom earlier for a little tune up. 

She sighed and rolled away from me and I whimpered in protest, reaching for her. She said, "I'll be back soon, but I really have to get these things off. She unhooked her stockings and garter, removing them and tossing them off the side of the bed. She immediately crawled back to snuggle into me, her head on my chest. I hummed my contentment and held her tight against me. 

"What do we do now, Scully?" 

"Hmmm," she murmured. "I think we need to spend all day tomorrow in bed." She said this as if she was saying, 'Isn't it nice outside today?' 

I laughed. "No arguments from me. But ..." 

"I know that's not what you meant." She paused. "I would like to spend one more day in seclusion, just the two of us, pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist. Monday will come soon enough and maybe tomorrow night we can have the serious talk and iron out the details." 

"Details?" 

"Of conduct, on the job, in public, etc." 

I swallowed. "So this is going to ... keep going?" I asked hesitantly, unsure if she would be insulted by that question. 

She wasn't. She frowned but then smiled and took it in the spirit of why it was being asked. She saw my insecurity and knew instinctively, like she always did, that I needed her courage and reassurance. 

"Oh Mulder, what am I going to do with you?" she asked playfully. 

She rolled up and straddled my hips. She was a sight, all sated, pink and smiling with mussed hair, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Her smile faded. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Damn, I am so in love with you, Mulder." 

I felt the bed spin momentarily. I blinked and focused on her again, my mouth hanging open in surprise. She smiled again and sunk down to plunge her tongue into my open mouth. I responded in kind and we kissed each other breathless. Finally we broke and I returned the sentiment. "Love doesn't even cover what I feel for you, Scully. But I do love you, so much." 

We hugged each other tight. I felt her lips smile against my chest. "Now, back to the plan for tomorrow. We're going to need portable food and drinks." 

"Dana Scully! Don't tell me YOU are going to eat in BED!" She giggled. 

"I am," she stated firmly. "And I'm going to show you every trick in the book that I know and see if I can drive you crazy. You up for the challenge, G-Man?" 

I laughed and squeezed her tight. "Yeess," I hissed. "What tricks, Scully? Doctor tricks? Womanly tricks? G-Woman tricks?" 

She giggled. "You'll just have to wait and see." 

I mock groaned in agony. "Oh man! Not even a hint?" I whined. 

She shook her head in the negative her eyes twinkling mischievously. I sighed, "Oh God, the suspense is going to kill me." 

**THE END.**   
  


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